Sierra Foxtrot: Revised Blue Version
by K.S. Reynard
Summary: (AU) A revised and edited version of the original Sierra Foxtrot, complete with a more palatable pairing. With a more streamlined plot, better planning, and even more snark than before, it's gone from being a dumpster fire to simply a dumpster. Join Fox in his quest to rebuild his team as he traverses planet Lylat, all while uncovering a plot to overthrow Lylat's power structure.
1. Introduction

**Greetings, and welcome.**

If you clicked on this link, I'd like to thank you for being willing to try something different - **but not too different** , because there's a good chance you clicked on it because you thought there would be a Fox/Krystal pairing. And you're right - there will be. Not immediately, though. You'll need to give it a bit of time to build up. Anyway, if you want to read the story now, please click the button to go to the next chapter. If you'd like a bit more background info, continue reading.

Okay then - you wanted to learn about the lore of _Sierra Foxtrot_. I appreciate that. I'll try to keep things as simple as possible. So, basically, in _Sierra Foxtrot_ , Lylat is a single planet, and all the planets are represented as nations in a near-future setting. I'm picturing 2030, or some year in that area. Don't be fooled, though - sci-fi shenanigans can and will occur, as will violations of the laws of physics. Yeah, about that. You saw the Humor tag, right? Keep in mind that _Sierra Foxtrot_ isn't an entirely serious story. Make no mistake: the plot is real. However, the way the plot unfolds can sometimes veer off into the ludicrous, the crass, or the completely demented. It doesn't start out being all that funny, but at a certain point, things start to unravel. Think of it as being in the vein of the _Borderlands_ video game series. If that's not your cup of caramel macchiato, that's fine. This story might not be for you. But if that's what you're into...well, you might really enjoy this story.

If you've read the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ , some of the changes are related to cutting down on the number of minor, unimportant OC's in the story and making the plotline a bit more coherent. A lot of details in this version will be identical or similar to the original, but some key elements will be different, especially considering that Krystal will play a larger role in this one. So, it's not a full rewrite, but it's not a mere edited version, either.

Also, take note that there will be references in this story - references to pop culture, music, other video games, random trivia, etc. And there will be a lot of them. You can try to find them yourself if you want, but I've included a footnotes section at the end of every chapter for your benefit/entertainment. The notes include writing details, things that influenced me while writing _Sierra Foxtrot_ , changes that I made from the original, and general silly comments and banter.

This story is rated T, but it's on the more mature end. I've tried to keep things from getting too adult (there is no onscreen sex, for instance), but it can get a bit graphic and/or raunchy at times. Just a heads up in case that bothers you.

All right, enough of this. Just read the story.

May the fark be with you.


	2. A Month of Silence

**Arc I¹: The Aquas Informant²**

 _Part 1: A Month of Silence_

* * *

The sound of pounding helicopter blades filled the air, the frame rattling beneath Fox's boots as his team's main attack chopper cut between the burning towers of Northpoint, Corneria—the northernmost metropolis on the large Cornerian landmass. With nerves on edge, he looked around him. The attack on the city by the suddenly-emboldened East Fortunan Resistance came without warning, and the damage inflicted upon the oceanfront city stunned both him and the Cornerian higher-ups.

Thanks to a mysterious attack, the majority of the city lacked power, which prevented the defending forces from maintaining reliable channels of communication. At the same time, rebel armaments, tanks, and artillery rolled into the city. General Pepper, head of the Cornerian military, ordered an immediate response to the attack, but for the moment, the rebels had the edge.³

To Fox's right, his fennec fiancée Fara rested her hand on his shoulder, while to his left, a lanky vixen with yellow-dyed fur looked over her submachine gun for what seemed like the fiftieth time. Three other soldiers sat on the bench across from him. The first – a muscle-bound badger – fidgeted in his seat next to a snow-colored owl whose eyes seemed unable to look away from the yellow vixen seated next to Fox – likely due to her refusal to wear Foxfire Enterprises' normal combat uniform in spite of Fox's wishes. The third soldier opposite from Fox was a tiger who went by the name 'Namurr', and despite his prodigious build and posture that exuded enormous self-confidence, he acted as the most reserved and reclusive member of Fox's combat unit.

From the cockpit, the final member of Fox's unit spoke.

"Boss, the lieutenant general's telling me that the Fortunan embassy is under attack! All available Cornerian forces are tied up, so he wants us to take care of it. What's your command?"

Fox's ears rotated in the direction of the pilot's seat, where a lanky red fox with piercing yellow eyes sat at the gunship's controls.

"I didn't hear anything about that, Rafa. Wouldn't command have called me first?" Fox shouted above the sound of the churning helicopter blades.

"Negative," Rafa replied. "They called through the chopper's main comms system. It's an emergency, boss!"

Fox looked to his right and locked eyes with Fara. Then, he ordered, "Head to the embassy and put us down as close to the building as possible."

"Roger that, boss."

The helicopter suddenly rotated and picked up speed, shoving Fox into Fara's side. She sighed and squeezed his shoulder, then whispered into his ear, "You know what? Let's not worry about trying to have a 'dream wedding'. With how much danger we put ourselves into on every mission, I would hate myself if one of us was killed before we got married all because I wanted to have an overblown wedding ceremony."

"I've been thinking the same thing, Fara. I didn't want to crush your dreams, though."

"Well, now you don't have to worry about that."

Fox patted his future wife on the back as the helicopter began its descent. A minute later, Rafa slowed the craft to a halt and hovered in place with its wheels two feet off the asphalt street in Northpoint's congested downtown district. Unclipping his seat belt, Fox jumped to his feet and shouted, "Everyone, follow me! Rafa – keep the chopper out of danger, but don't go too far. We might need a quick exit."

The vulpine nodded, then looked away from his leader through the helicopter's front window. As he turned away, Fox swore he saw a tinge of regret in his yellow eyes.

Jumping out of the gunship, Fox stopped for a brief moment and surveyed the surroundings. Hundreds of civilian vehicles sat motionless on both sides of the street, and the many other cars that rolled to a stop in the middle of the road had already been flattened or rammed out of the way by battalions of armored vehicles belonging to both the Cornerian and East Fortunan forces. The high-rise buildings surrounding him all looked to be only moderately damaged, but the sound of perpetual gunfire and the smell of smoke punctuated the air. The tall, sandstone-colored Fortunan embassy building stood a hundred feet away from him on the right side of the road next to a downtown police office.

Three Cornerian fighter jets screamed overhead while the rest of Fox's unit leaped out of the helicopter. The instant that the crew debarked, Rafa took off and navigated the chopper through a gap between two nearby skyscrapers. Fox pulled his assault rifle up to eye level and advanced towards the embassy, but as he neared the building, something felt wrong to him. Virtually no one apart from him or his unit seemed to be in the area.

"Rena! Is your proximity scanner pulling up anything?" he shouted.

The yellow vixen shook her head. "Negative, senpai.⁴ It's still a prototype, though. It could be wrong."

Checking his surroundings for any hostile soldiers, he advanced with his unit towards the marble steps in front of the embassy. Shattered glass from the entry doors and lower level windows littered the ground at the front of the building, and as he climbed the steps and crept into the embassy's front lobby, he noted the distinct lack of lighting inside the structure. His unit's boots crunched over broken glass inside the embassy, which seemed empty.

Fox led his team past the embassy's front desk and into a long corridor replete with numerous doors on both sides. On the floor near the end of the hallway close to the emergency stairwell, the body of a white canid laid motionless in a pool of his own blood. "We've got one casualty," he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of his team. "Rena, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust your proximity scanner?"

The yellow vixen glanced at a rectangular device attached to her wrist and replied, "About a 7. It's worked every time we've used it so far."

Fox took another glance at the dead canine on the floor, then turned to face his unit. "I'm putting a lot of faith in Rena's device, but this building seems empty. I don't know what Rafa was getting on about earlier, because if the embassy was under attack, we'd have run into more bodies by now. Something doesn't seem right here."

"Well, what do you want us to do about it?" the large badger near the head of the group snapped.

"Split up into three teams of two and search the first three floors. Fara and I will check this floor, Rena and Namurr – you get the second. That leaves the third floor with Snowy and you, Brutus. Make sure you keep your guards up. Something's wrong here, and it would be a mistake to deny that. Start sweeping the building now. When you're finished, report back to the front lobby."

Acting on Fox's word, the unit broke up into twos, with all but Fox and Fara climbing the service stairs to the second level, as the elevators had ceased to function hours earlier. Fox looked at the corpse at his feet again, then muttered, "There's something I need to check on here." Fara leaned on his shoulder and watched as he pulled his military phone out of his pocket and accessed the locational data on his team's transport helicopter.

Fara watched Fox's face adopt a grim, concerned stare that appeared to burn a hole in his phone screen.

"What the hell? I told Rafa to get the chopper out of immediate danger, not to leave the AO. He's almost out of the city entirely!" Not wasting any time, he pressed a button on the side of his phone and shouted, "Rafa, what are you doing? Get back here now! We're going to need an exfil here in just a few minutes!"

Silence.

"Rafa, I repeat – you need to get back here ASAP! What are you trying to pull this time?"

Complete and utter radio silence plagued him, plunging the embassy's lower level into a sonic vacuum punctuated only by the sound of his teammates' boots on the floor above him. For a moment, he froze and stared at his screen. At the same time, Fara sprinted towards a service entry door inside the stairwell and forced it open like her life depended on it. Fox opened his mouth to ask what she thought of the situation, when a panicked scream pierced his ears. "Fox! There's an entire pallet of ANNM in here! Get out of the building now!"

Fox's instincts took over. Phone still in hand, he raced towards the front of the embassy, hoping and praying that Fara would move quickly enough to escape behind him. While running, he pressed the external button on his phone reserved for his team's universal comms channel and shouted the warning about the explosive threat. It came to no avail. A fraction of a moment later, a calamitous explosion erupted behind him. The tiled floor shook beneath his feet, and pieces of the ceiling fell around him. The growing sunlight from outside the building filled his eyes, but at the same time, the searing heat from the explosion engulfed him like an inescapable python of fire.

That memory never got better with time.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

"Fox, Fox! Wake up!"

The repetitive soft punches to his shoulder and his teammate's high-pitched, feminine voice roused him from his unpleasant daydream. With a grunt of displeasure, he opened his eyes, finding himself seated on a workout bench inside his rented base's gym area. A white-furred spaniel with a large red bow in her white hair stood next to him. She wore a silver button-down shirt and a short, black skirt, making it obvious that she served in a role that involved no combat duty.

"What's the matter this time, Fay?" Fox asked, almost disinterestedly. The month following his entire combat unit's demise had taken its toll on him; and he lacked the impetus to rebuild the team. He feared that it would take the threat of bankruptcy to force him to dig in and reestablish his tarnished brand—if that was even possible at this point.

Fay cast a quick glance towards the gym's entry door and said, "Your dad called the front office and asked me to get you to talk to him."

Fox sighed. His phone was in a locker in the next room; and because putting anything of substance into them cause them to sag, his gym shorts lacked pockets. He appreciated his clothes' design, as the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was to field calls. Yet, he knew better than to ignore his father. The two talked less than either of them would have liked, mostly because of an incident from the previous year that still grated on Fox's nerves almost ten months after it occurred.

"Okay, Fay. I'll talk to him. Just let me get my normal clothes back on."

Three short minutes later, Fox changed out of his gym attire and donned his team's standard black and red military fatigues. In spite of the utter lack of missions and general activity around the base, he still chose to maintain his previous standards. Pulling his phone out of his personal locker, he glanced at the screen, only to see "3 missed calls."

He rolled his eyes, but a certain part of him held a tinge of concern for his father. After all, the elder fox—a colonel in the Cornerian military—had been deployed to West Fortuna to serve in the fresh conflict with the rebellious eastern half of the country. While looking around at the blue and white tiled surfaces inside the locker room, he pressed the call button and dialed his father.

Three short dial tones later, and James's voice shot out of Fox's speakers. Thanks to the power of Caller ID, he skipped the customary "hello" and immediately blurted out, "Fox, I've been trying to get in touch with you!"

Fox internally snickered. "That's what I've been told. What's the matter? Is this really important, or are you updating me on your dating adventures again?"

A quiet laugh came from James's end of the phone. _"I can certainly do that if you're interested. A few weeks ago before my deployment, Mystic and I went out for…"_

"Enough, enough!" Fox interrupted, waving his free hand. "What do you _really_ want to tell me? Sorry—I'm not in a good mood today."

" _I might have the cure for that,"_ said James. _"You see, General Pepper assigned a friend of yours with a job, and she was wondering if you could give her a hand. She needs someone to fly a plane to Aquas and back, you see."_

A confused look appeared on Fox's face. "She could have called me directly if this was important enough. Why does she need you to be her middleman? Unless…"

An unfortunate reality struck him at that moment.

"Oh great. This is Scarlet, isn't it?"

" _How'd you know?"_

"I've learned to trust my instincts," replied Fox. "And by the way, the answer is 'no.' I'm still not ready to let her off the hook for what happened last Christmas."

" _Oh, come on, son!"_ James shot back, _"It was all a joke! You were just taking things way too seriously."_

"I think you and her plotting to destroy my relationship with Fara is something worth taking seriously. Who I get married to isn't up to you."

James sighed. _"Fine. But you should learn to forgive and forget, you know?"_

"I don't think I'm ever going to forget _that,_ Dad. Scarlet can call up one of her trashy friends if she needs help. I'm not in a good mood to deal with her right now."

Somehow, Fox felt like his father was smiling on the other end of the line. _"Well, you'll have to tell that to her face, because she's on her way to meet you now."_

"Dad! Are you kidding me?"

" _No—why would I do that? Listen—I know you're strapped for work, and the two of you have—or should I say_ had _—great chemistry. She's agreed to pay for your fuel bill and airport fees, as well as give you 25% of the payout from her job."_

The prospect of being paid for what seemed like a minimal amount of work short circuited his brain for a moment.

Under his breath, he muttered, "Okay, fine—I'll talk to her. But listen—I don't appreciate you trying to interfere with my life again."

James threw up his non-phone-holding hand. _"What? You told me to pass along any job leads I could find. I found a good one, with someone you already know! What more could you ask for? I guess you could tune me out and go broke, if that's what you're into."_

Fox gritted his teeth. "Enough. As I said, I'll talk to Scarlet. Thanks for the job tip. Goodbye."

" _Hey, don't you want to hear about the rest of my date with M…"_

Fox pressed the red 'end call' button and wiped his brow, even though it was not sweaty. _"That guy just doesn't know how to stay in his lane. I thought he would have realized by now that I'm not his little boy anymore. Sigh. He's been this way since Mom died, so I guess I should cut him a little slack. He's afraid of losing more of what matters to him."_

He turned his head towards the locker room exit, only for a feline snout to appear around the corner. The instant his visitor ascertained that he was dressed, she stepped into the doorway. The cat looked like a lynx of some sort, but with a long, spotted tail that indicated the presence of another felid species' DNA. She wore a form-fitting black t-shirt and blue skinny jeans, indicating that like Fay, she mainly pulled office duty in Fox's base. However, she seemed far more warrior-like than the bubbly spaniel did. In fact, she held a position on Fox's combat unit at one point.

"What's up, Miyu?" Fox asked.

The feline glanced over her shoulder and replied, "Someone's at the front door looking for you. I need to know if it's okay to let her in."

A protracted sigh emerged from Fox's mouth. "Let me guess: red vixen, black hair, tall, and wearing fetish clothes."

"Nailed it. You know her?"

"A little too well," Fox answered with a groan. "That would be my old acquaintance Scarlet. We go back a long way."

Mild confusion manifested itself on Miyu's features. "Um, shouldn't you be a bit more excited to see an old friend?"

"It's…complicated. You'll understand when you meet her. You can let her in, though. I'll be out in a bit."

Two minutes later, Fox exited the base's gym and entered the main hallway, bare apart from a select few pictures of his former staff and a few pieces of military hardware that he had been fortunate enough to own. Fox was not fond of keeping many accolades around and preferred that his success be measured by revenue and a constant workflow rather than a pile of awards and medals. Of course, ever since his combat unit bit the dust, he had neither money nor medals.

Halfway down the hallway, within eyesight of the base's frosted glass front doors, Fox spotted the receptionist's desk, where both Fay and Miyu sat at a pair of computers. Judging from the sheer lack of workflow, Fay was likely chatting online instead of filing documents. Miyu's attention rested elsewhere, specifically on the third female in the area. A red vixen leaned against the counter in front of Miyu's computer.

As described by Miyu, she stood an inch taller than Fox; and thanks to her black faux leather boots, she had a two and a half-inch advantage on the male vulpine. Flowing black hair fell to her shoulders, complementing her sapphire-blue eyes that radiated a mischievous glow. The vixen possessed an enviable physique. Although not exactly slender, her generous proportions seemed genetically tailored to ignite the desires of nearly every male she came into contact with. As if that had not been enough, she wore a matte black catsuit with numerous utility pockets sewn into it. The garment hugged her every curve to its logical extreme from her neck to her feet, as if to say "You can look, but you can't touch."

Fox's breath caught in his throat when he laid eyes on her, but he quickly collected himself and spoke in a dry, disinterested voice. "Scarlet."

The vixen smiled and turned in his direction. "Hey Fox! Long time no see!" She trotted over to him, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Having a feeling that Scarlet intended to do something that he had no interest in, Fox took a quick step back and crossed his arms. "Hey, respect the space."

Scarlet smirked, although Fox perceived an element of frustration in her voice. "For now." Her tone suddenly took a turn for the serious. "Fox, I think you know why I'm here. If you talked to your dad, he's probably explained everything already. That would be nice. I'd rather get going instead of going over my job description again."

"Yeah. He told me you need a pilot to Aquas and that you're going to give me 25% if I help out, in addition to fuel and airport bills."

"Right," said Scarlet. "Those fees are a bitch, but I'm not going to hire a charter plane for this, especially on Cornerian government business. You've still got your plane, right?"

Fox frowned. "Yeah, the _Great Fox_. I was just about to sell that thing so I'd have enough money to make next month's lease payment on the base."

" _Great Fox?_ What kind of name is that?"

"One off my teammates came up with it a year ago, and it was dumb enough to stick. What do you need it for, anyway?"

"I need to get someone out of a dangerous area," said Scarlet. "I'm supposed to secure a rogue informant who's holed up in his house in Aquas. I'm not really sure who's after him, but Pepper told me that he—the informant, I mean—thinks someone is out to get him. Supposedly, he's got some intel that Pepper and his pals want to know about.

"Sounds mildly interesting," Fox commented.

"It could end up that way, I guess. Or, the informant could just be paranoid. It happens a lot. Either way, I'm looking to make some good money on this gig."

Fox looked into the distance, a frustrated expression on his lips. "I could use that about now."

Scarlet's eyes softened. "Oh?"

Fox looked away from Scarlet and stared at the wall. "It hasn't been going well for me. I lost everything a month ago. My closest teammate betrayed me, my combat unit is gone, and Fara…she's, well…"

Scarlet's gaze fell. "I see."

"Jobs aren't coming in, either, since you need a team to take them; and to recruit people, you need to have work lined up for them. It's a catch-33,⁵ you know?"

Scarlet tilted her head, unfamiliar with the term. "Did you mean 'catch-22?'"

"Uh, yeah," Fox blushed, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, it comes from being around Rena too much. I mean…from _having_ been around her too much."

Scarlet sighed. Truth be told, she had been expecting to have a slightly more upbeat conversation with her associate from years past. Due to being out of the loop on Fox's affairs, so to speak, his struggles came as a surprise to her.

"Would a hug from Miss Scarlet make things any better?" she asked, concern in her voice.

Fox glanced past Scarlet at Miyu and Fay, both of whom were staring in his direction. "Not right now," he replied.

Scarlet put her hands on her generous hips. "Fine. Have it your way. So, when can you be ready to leave?"

Fox hardened his expression and took a step towards the red vixen. "What if I was to say no?"

Inklings of fear appeared in Scarlet's eyes. "Please, don't."

"Okay then—I want 35%."

For a brief moment, Scarlet looked thoroughly frustrated and disgusted. However, as the seconds passed, her frown turned into a toothy grin. "That's the Fox I know. 30%. That's final. Deal or no deal?"

Fox paused for thought. He stared upwards at the ceiling while stroking his muzzle, keeping Scarlet suspended in tension for ten seconds until he said, "Deal."

Scarlet held out her hand and gave Fox a high-five. "Yeah! I knew you'd make the right call. We're going to have a great time in Aquas. Bring your swim trunks if you feel like it."

A wary look appeared in Fox's eyes. "Did no one ever tell you about mixing business with pleasure?"

"Screw that," Scarlet scoffed. "What's a job if you can't enjoy it? I say as long as it doesn't keep me from getting my work done, I can do whatever I want."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Now I can see why you didn't even last a week in the army after completing that training program⁶."

"Those tight-asses – trying to get me to conform to their ridiculous standards," the vixen replied. "It might work for them, but I can't deal with that crap. To be my best, I need my freedom." She absent-mindedly reached into one of her catsuit's 'utility' pockets and fondled her car keys.

With his eyes following Scarlet's motions, Fox observed, "So, you finally decided that your clothes needed to be functional too, huh?"

Scarlet shifted to the side and leaned against the wall. "I had this suit custom-made for me a month ago. This one's not just eye candy – it has seven cargo pockets, a built-in clip for a handgun, and to top it off, it's also lightweight, breathable, and above all, comfortable. This is the warm weather version. I've also got a waterproof one and a cold-weather version. I should hook you up with my stepmom. She's great."

"That sounded unbelievably wrong."

Scarlet giggled and cupped a hand over her mouth. "Whoops. What I meant was that she's the one who makes my catsuits. You ought to try one. She doesn't get many orders from guys, but the ones with the balls to walk on the wild side almost never go back."

"I think I'd prefer to avoid the matte gray finish on mine," Fox replied, giving Scarlet a disapproving glance. "That suit's borderline fetish material."

"That's your problem. Personally, I love it. I've got a few more with different colors in the works right now. Mostly black and gray, though." Giving her tail a quick twitch, she pulled out her car keys and jingled them. "Now, hurry up and get packed. I don't like waiting!"

* * *

\- §⁷ -

* * *

The flight from Corneria to the Aquan capital city of Avenura occupied the rest of Fox and Scarlet's day. In fact, by the time Fox's colossal transport plane touched down at the Avenura International Airport, midnight had already passed. Fox's smartwatch read "0104," and his tired body language reflected it. He carried both his and Scarlet's bags, and his posture made it apparent that he had every desire to drop them and crawl into the bed reserved for him inside his and Scarlet's hotel.

As the taxi responsible for transporting him and his vixenly comrade to a modest beach hotel drove away, he glanced at Scarlet and locked eyes with her. Anticipating the need to look like a civilian once the _Great Fox_ landed, she wore a snug white V-neck shirt and a pair of ripped jean shorts that left her red leg fur exposed between her thighs and her black shins, covered by her combat boots. Through her shirt's thin fabric, Fox managed to make out the outline of a bikini top.

"You were serious about going to the beach, weren't you?" asked Fox.

Scarlet grinned. "Of course, you silly fox. It's great out here."

Grumbling to himself, Fox turned and looked at the scenery surrounding him. He remembered his one other outing to the country, which was made up of several large islands off the coast of Zoness. However, he spent so little time in the tropical area that not much of his visit stayed with him. The most common descriptor from people who had visited Aquas was that it was similar to Zoness in terms of scenery, but with a less snooty, easy-going atmosphere better suited for everyday people.

Small, humble houses lay nestled amongst groves of palm trees that flanked the narrow two lane roads leading out of the city and into the surrounding suburban areas. The roads looked well-maintained, but their wear still stood out nonetheless. Fox guessed that beach traffic would be heavy during the day, but in the early hours of the morning, virtually no vehicles clogged the roadways.⁸

Beyond the hotel's parking lot, Fox spotted the beach and the Central Lylat Ocean that separated Aquas and the eastern pangea from the western continent, home to Macbeth, the desert nation of Titania, the lawless badlands of Papetoon, the former Cornerian frontier state Katina, the urban city-state Eladard, and a vast wasteland known as Venom.

While Fox yawned after the long trip from Corneria City to Aquas, Scarlet nudged him and said, "You go ahead and get us checked in. I'll be out on the beach. Come and get me when you're finished."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, honey."

He felt Scarlet punch him in the arm as he walked towards the sliding doors at the front of the hotel. Entering the hotel, he eyed the reception desk, where an exhausted skunk lady looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep in her chair behind the desk. Her eyelids dropped shut, but they snapped open when the sound of Fox's footsteps reached her ears. "Oh…er…welcome. Do you have a reservation?"

"It's under 'Altruis.' It should be a room with two queen beds on the third floor," Fox replied.

The receptionist typed in Fox's information, then looked up at him with a confirming smile. "I've got it right here. Looks like you already paid for it."

Fox nodded, grateful that Scarlet had offered to book a two-bed room at the last minute, even though she made it clear that Fox would owe her at some point in the future. While he observed the hotel lobby and took note of the breakfast area near the back of the atrium, the receptionist reached into a drawer next to her chair and handed him a sleeve containing two plastic cards. She then explained, "Your room number is 305, and as you probably know, the checkout time tomorrow is 11:00 AM. I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. Altruis."

Fox blushed and considered explaining the fact that Altruis was not his family name, but decided to simply nod and exit the building for fear of exacerbating the situation. He shoved the card sleeve into the pocket of the khaki shorts that he had changed into and walked towards the beach. The asphalt parking lot gave way to a wooden footbridge that snaked through towering reeds that brushed against his fur as he neared the beach.

At the edge of the bridge, he stopped and pulled his shoes off to prevent sand from entering them. Then, he stepped onto the beach and looked for Scarlet. His search did not take long. About thirty feet from the edge of the tide, the vixen lay on a black and red towel, adorned with a red string bikini that glowed when the moon shined on it. A towel identical to Scarlet's rested on the sand next to her. When Fox approached her, she looked up at him and gave him a smile that hinted at her being more tired than she would have believed.

Fox seated himself on the empty towel and looked at Scarlet. "Thanks for handling the hotel. I know your name doesn't show up on as many records as mine does, so that'll definitely make things a bit less conspicuous for us. Although a red vixen who could pass for a runway model lying on the beach at 1:00 in the morning is a bit suspicious."

Scarlet flashed her teeth. "I really don't see the harm. I don't get many chances to get away from it all, so when I do, I have to make sure I take them. I'm guessing you're going to head up to the room and crash now, right?"

Suppressing a yawn, Fox replied, "Yeah. How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"I'll pack up and come with you now," she answered, rolling over and pushing herself to her feet. "I just needed a few minutes to myself out here." She reached down and picked up her shirt and shorts, then pulled them on over her swimwear before shaking out her beach towel and throwing it over her shoulder.

Fox followed her lead and set to work shaking the sand out of his towel. "When are you getting up tomorrow morning?"

"Whenever," Scarlet replied. "You can shake me if you wake up before I do. Don't worry if that doesn't happen, though – I promise you that I'm not going to sleep in like a drunken college student after a wild Friday night."

Fox had a feeling that she had spoken from experience; and on that note, he allowed a faint grin to grace his lips. Folding his towel in a disorganized manner, he turned back towards the hotel and commented, "Hopefully this informant won't be as neurotic as I think he'll be. Dealing with those kinds of people is never fun."

"You got that right."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

 _"Hopefully this informant won't be as neurotic as I think he'll be. Dealing with those kinds of people is never fun."_

 _"You got that right."_

Through a pair of high-powered camera binoculars, a solitary figure stood on the balcony of her hotel room, staring out at the beach where two vulpines had – for some strange reason – decided to lie out for only than a few minutes. She felt something unusual about the two when she happened to look out at the beach and noticed them. She recalled her commander informing her about a particular mercenary who planned to speak with a former member of Anthracite Security who knew too much about her own faction's dealings.

 _"That has to be him, or her? I recognize the male—that's Fox McCloud. He must have been assigned with this job. That complicates things."_

For a minute, she watched as Fox and Scarlet walked across the wooden bridge that separated the hotel from the beach before they exited her range of vision and forced her to put her binoculars away. She listened to the sound of the ocean waves for a moment, indulging herself in the memories of her childhood that the salty waters brought to her mind. Then, she turned around with a frustrated scowl on her face and closed the glass partition between her room and the balcony. Back inside her hotel room, she ripped the blinds closed, obscuring the view of the ocean before she climbed onto the room's solitary bed and picked up a silver laptop that looked like it had seen better days.

She opened the screen, causing the computer display to light up and reveal a nondescript desktop background that only showed five icons. Scrolling her index finger along the laptop's trackpad, she double clicked on an icon in the top left part of the screen, marked "Deacomm Face-to-Face," then pulled her blocky, heavy-duty cell phone out of her sweat pants pocket and checked to make sure that she had enabled its built-in hotspot. The hotel offered free web service to its clients, but she knew that her upcoming conversation was too important to risk being leaked on an open server.

Seconds later, the program opened to reveal a loading screen that automatically connected with her employer. When the blue progress bar reached 100%, the screen expanded to fill the entire screen and began streaming a live video of a lanky vulpine in his early thirties. He wore a set of dark gray military fatigues with 'EFR' sewn onto his left chest pocket. He sat at a metal desk in a darkened room, illuminated by a wall of blinking lights created by a series of servers behind him.

Although his initial expression chilled his subordinate through her computer screen, his face softened as her end of the video appeared on the computer screen in front of him. "Buenas noches, amiga," he smiled. "Do you have something to report?"

"Yes," the woman replied. "I think I located the mercenaries." For some reason, they walked out to the beach in front of my balcony. I heard them talking about the informant."

 _"Anthracite Security's former engineering specialist Slippy Toad. But you say there was more than one mercenary? Did you recognize either of them?"_

"Yes," said the woman. "There was a man and a woman. The man was definitely Fox McCloud."

Silence came from the other end of the line. _"That changes things. Since there are two mercenaries assigned to this job, the original goal can still be achieved, but with one key difference."_

"What would that be?"

" _Do not let Fox leave Aquas alive. I don't care how you do it. A bullet, a knife, poison, a freak gasoline fight accident⁹—it doesn't matter. Just make sure that he is killed, and then kill him again to make sure that he can't come back."_

"Don't worry, Rafa¹⁰. I'll take care of him."

"You'd better. I pulled out all the stops to make sure wouldn't leave Northpoint alive, but it seems he's even harder to kill than I thought." He paused, then asked, "What about the woman you saw with Fox? What did you make of her? Did you get any pictures that you can send to me?"

"I didn't recognize her. If I had to guess, she's probably his love interest or partner."

The vulpine stroked his muzzle, then shook his head. "There's no way. He was about to marry a teammate of his; and knowing Fox, he's not one to move on that quickly. That vixen is definitely assigned with him on the mission. I'm familiar with a few vixen mercenaries, so I think I might have a lead on who you saw. Just make sure you send me any pictures you took of her and the Fox."

"I'll do that," the woman replied. "I'll contact you again tomorrow morning, Rafa."

"Excellente. Thank you for your work."

With that, the video stream ended, returning the woman's computer back to the video conferencing menu. Closing her laptop, she placed it near the front of the bed and disrobed, dropping her clothes on the floor next to her bed before she burrowed under the covers and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She knew she needed to rise before the mercenary did if she wanted to have a good chance of tailing him, so she begrudgingly reached over and set her room's alarm clock for 5:00 AM. Then, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:  
_

1 _Sierra Foxtrot_ didn't have much of a "game plan" until a good chunk of it was already written, but I _did_ plan for it to have ten arcs. It did, which makes me awesome. Or something.

2 This arc originally started out a lot different. It was also a lot less interesting, which is why it was changed.

3 I was so unenthusiastic about writing this part of the story that I put it off until readers of the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ continually badgered me about it. Were they happy with the end result? Of course not.

4 Rena originally called Fox "Boss," but that was altered because Rena _never_ misses a chance to address Fox as her "senpai."

5 Meshuggah reference.

6 The Cornerian Advanced Soldier Training Program, or "Program for the Training of Advanced Soldiers" (Version 2, PTAS-2) was a widely criticized program initiated by the Cornerian Army while Fox and Scarlet were attending college. Applicants for the program underwent rigorous training that was blemished by a total fatality rate of 10%. This was still much lower than the program's previous year.

7 This formerly marked the beginning of Chapter 2, titled "Portico." It was a steaming pile of filler that served almost no purpose whatsoever. The amount of actual content was so scant that I rolled it into Chapter 1.

8 Aquas in this story resembles the areas surrounding Myrtle Beach, South Carolina and beachfront areas of eastern Florida.

9 Zoolander, 2001.

10 The person the woman was originally speaking with was an officer working for Macbeth's intelligence agency. Due to feedback, I got rid of him and replaced him with the Big Bad, Rafa Ortega.


	3. Paranoia Fuel

**Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 2: Paranoia Fuel_

* * *

Morning broke for Fox thirty minutes before 6:00 AM. On most days while on call with his now-decimated unit, he awoke before most others; and the force of habit alone roused him from his sleep. Opening his eyes, he rubbed them and sat up in bed. The faint glow of dawn emanated from the distant horizon over the sapphire ocean, and the sound of the waves whispered through the thick hotel walls. The gentle noise almost lulled him back to sleep, but his discipline prevented him from returning to his dreams. Not that his dreams were an ideal place to return to, anyway. After the Northpoint incident, memories of the blast and the loss of his squadmates plagued his sleep. However, the mental image of his dead future wife haunted him the most. Whoever the culprit for the blast was, Fox wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around his throat and choke him to death, even though his team's murderer was likely nothing more than a mere pawn in the East Fortuna rebels' plan.

Looking to his right, he watched Scarlet sleep. Her hair lay disheveled on her pillow, and a faint strand of saliva dripped down her mouth as she rested, oblivious to anything around her. Nevertheless, Fox knew her to be an extraordinarily light sleeper who would awake to nearly anything in most circumstances.

Ignoring this, he slid out of bed, accepting the fact that Scarlet would see him wearing only his boxer briefs if she woke up before he could dress himself. When Scarlet remained asleep, he walked into the nearby bathroom and prepared a shower. While the water heated up, he looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. Somehow, he had a feeling that by accepting Scarlet's offer, he had unwittingly opened Pandora's Box, or something equally sinister. Everything seemed normal enough at the moment, but a sneaking suspicion warned him that strange events could begin occurring at any moment.

He turned around and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain behind him. While washing his fur, he contemplated his past with the red vixen. The two had crossed paths a number of times over the fourteen years that they had known each other, starting with a chance meeting at the enormous McCloud family reunion, where he discovered her as a cousin-in-law. Some years later, the two met again as part of a controversial Cornerian military training program that occurred during their college years. Scarlet never completed school and dropped off the map for a number of years, but she occasionally reached out to him nonetheless.

After a few minutes, Fox turned the shower off and dried his fur with a white towel. Due to his thick vulpine pelt, a substantial amount of water remained, but he knew it would evaporate eventually. He figured Scarlet would have awakened by this point and mentally slapped himself for not bringing any extra clothes with him into the bathroom. Accepting the inevitable, he pulled on his boxers, hung up his towel, and opened the bathroom door. Not bothering to be quiet, he stepped back into the main bedroom area and grabbed his bag, which lay on a small wooden desk underneath a wall-mounted television.

As he moved back towards the bathroom to change, he heard the sound of sheets rustling, followed by Scarlet's voice. "Good morning, hot stuff."

Fox turned red and glanced over his shoulder at the vixen as she sat up in her bed and yawned. A moment later, she slid out of bed and set foot on the floor. Fox's eyes widened at her attire, which consisted of her white t-shirt from the night before, a black thong, and nothing else¹. Noticing the bag in Fox's hand, she asked him, "How long are you going to be in there? I need to fix my hair."

"Only about a minute," Fox replied. "Normally, I'd tell you not to waste your time with your hair, but it really looks awful right now."

Scarlet responded with a playful punch that caught him in the arm. "I won't take long. I'd like to get this meeting with the informant over with so we can have some real fun while we're here. General Pepper didn't say anything about what we were supposed to do after we questioned the informant and relayed the information to him, so I figured we'd have a bit of time off afterwards."

Reaching behind his left ear to scratch an itch, Fox responded, "These kinds of missions rarely ever go as planned. I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you. I bet General Pepper has more planned for us after we talk to the informant."

"You're probably right," Scarlet admitted, glancing at the maroon carpet under her feet, covered with lush fur that gave her the illusion of wearing black, knee-length stockings. "Well, hurry up and get changed. I'm hungry, and I want to get breakfast before everyone else in the hotel shows up."

After Fox dressed himself and allowed Scarlet to reign in her hair, the two foxes stepped out of their room with their travel bags in hand. Neither had any intention of returning to the room. Both wore the same clothes as the day before, although Scarlet's appearance differed thanks to her rapid hair repair which amounted to tying it in an awkward ponytail. At least, Fox thought it looked awkward, largely because he had never seen her wear it any way other than the way she normally kept it. Noticeably, Scarlet wore a lightweight jacket over her shirt as a means of hiding the handgun that she managed to sneak through airport security.

Stepping into a nearby elevator, Fox pressed the down arrow and then glanced at his black timepiece. 6:32. He would have preferred to leave his room at an even earlier time, but the hotel's breakfast didn't start until 6:30. "At least no one else will be down there," he thought. He glanced at Scarlet out of the corner of his eye and hoped that she would not notice; and to his relief, her eyes seemed fixated on something else in the elevator. The last thing he wanted was for Scarlet to make him admit to being smitten by her appearance, which he was. As attractive as his late fiancée looked, he had to admit that he thought Scarlet outclassed her in that department.

Shortly, the elevator stopped on the ground floor, and the doors slid open to reveal the hotel's main atrium. Both Fox and Scarlet walked towards the back of the building, where an expansive dining area sprawled out before them. At the moment, only four other people occupied the area. Fox took note of the other patrons – a duo of orange tabbies who looked like a husband and wife, a lone Alsatian dog seated in a leather chair next to one of the dining room's massive windows that provided a view of the currently-unoccupied outdoor swimming pool, and an odd-colored vixen who sat by herself in the extreme back left corner of the dining room, just outside the area where the self-serve buffet was located.

As soon as he laid eyes on the vixen, he found it nigh impossible to pull them away from her. She wore a short, purple sundress that matched her sapphire blue fur, accented by a large patch of white that ran from her chest to her nose. He assumed that she had used some form of fur dye to attain her coloration, but he had never seen a blue-furred fox before. He stared at her for over five seconds until she lifted her eyes from her plate and placed them on him. Quickly looking away, he followed Scarlet into the kitchen area, where he snatched up two bagels and an egg while she poured herself a small bowl of fiber-heavy cereal. Fox viewed her choice of food as odd, but he realized that there was a reason for how she managed to keep her figure as close to perfect as most people thought possible.

Scarlet led Fox over a table near the window overlooking the pool and sat down with her back to the glass. Fox took a seat across from her, leaving him unable to see the blue vixen seated on the other side of the room.

 _"Perhaps that's a good thing,"_ he thought, knowing that for some reason, the vixen's appearance made it next to impossible for him to focus on anything else.

While Fox spread cream cheese on his bagels, Scarlet took a bite of her cereal and whispered, "Did you see the blue fox on the other side of the room?"

"How could I not?" Fox replied. "I've never seen someone with that fur color before."

"Get this – it's natural."

Fox dropped his butter knife, which fortunately only made a clicking sound against the table's surface. "How do you know that?"

"Because I've read about it before. You might want to get a good look of her, because you'll probably never seen another one of her kind again."

Taking a bite of a bagel, Fox asked, "What? Are they that rare?"

"From the article I read, there are only about 1,000 of them in the whole world. Not only that, but their culture is extremely reclusive. Almost all of them live on an island group in the middle of the ocean west of Macbeth and east of Corneria. They're extreme luddites, which explains why most of them never leave the island. They don't even have boats with motors."

"That's…interesting," Fox muttered.

"I think they're just really superstitious. They don't like outsiders, either. Most people who try to land on the islands don't come back."

Fox returned a dumbfounded expression. "What are these people called?"

"Cerinians," Scarlet replied. "That's the name of the island group – the Cerinian Islands. It's supposed to be a really nice place, but you'll never find out if it's true."

Fox glanced over his shoulder, only for the blue vixen to lock eyes with him. Pretending to be interested in his bagel, he turned back around and asked Scarlet, "What's she doing here, then?"

"Heck if I know. If you really want to find out, why don't you ask her?"

"Well, I don't want to intrude, and…"

Scarlet smiled. "She's coming over here right now, so I don't think you've got much to worry about."

Fox cringed, then turned around to find himself five feet from the bluefur. Her face seemed calm enough, but it rapidly changed and reflected both anger and frustration. "Is there something wrong with you? Can't you let a girl have her space?"

"I'm sorry," said Fox. "Really. It's hard not to look at you, though. You are blue, after all."

The vixen softened her expression and dismissively waved her hand at Fox. "I was just kidding. I'm used to having people stare at me. By this point, I really don't care about it. My name's Krystal, just so you know. What's yours?"

"I'm Fox, and she's…er…Cynthia," he replied, not knowing if Scarlet approved of him using her birth name – the one not associated with her mercenary work.

"Pleased to meet you. So, what brings you to Aquas?"

Fox gave Scarlet a quick, concerned glance and then answered, "We're here for the beach. Work's been tough, so it was about time for a vacation."

"Oh, is that so? What do you do?"

Fox knew the vixen meant no harm in her questions, but they were hitting too close to home for his liking. "I'm an insurance adjuster," he lied. "What do you do?"

"I'm looking for a new line of work right now. I used to be a model, but it never felt right. It was fun while it lasted, though."

Fox's eyes widened just enough for both Krystal and Scarlet to notice. "Um…do you have any of your old work with you?"

A smile worked its way onto Krystal's lips. "You'll have to look it up on your own," she replied, giving Fox a wink. "You can see some of my old samples on (web . krystalmodel . ele). I used to do commissions for individual clients, so the pictures on the site are just examples of my work."

"An Eladard extension, huh?"

"That's where I'm from. Well, not originally, but it's where I call home for now."

Having been told about it by Scarlet, Fox wanted to ask her about her birthplace, but he restrained himself. "She probably wouldn't want to talk about it anyway."

A brief, awkward silence ensued, with all three foxes glancing at each other without any real purpose until Fox cleared his throat and grabbed his plate. "We've got to get going. It was nice meeting you, Krystal."

"Same to you, Fox," she replied, winking at him before she turned back towards her empty table on the other side of the room. Scarlet still had half of her cereal left in her bowl, but she begrudgingly followed Fox as he stood up and tossed his partially-eaten breakfast in the nearest trashcan. With a sigh, she dropped her bowl in after it and exited the breakfast area behind Fox.

The two beat a path back to their room to gather their bags², then exited through the sliding glass entry doors at the front of the hotel after they returned their room keys. When the doors slid shut behind them, Scarlet pushed Fox off to the side and groused, "You know, I really wanted to finish my breakfast, but you just couldn't keep your eyes in place."

Holding up his hands, Fox apologized, "Sorry about that. I felt that she was getting too close to figuring out why we're really here. I don't think she meant any harm, but she was making me nervous."

"Yeah, sure," Scarlet huffed. "You know, when you find yourself in situations like that, just bullshit things. Lie until you're blue in the face as long as you know it's not going to come back to bite you."

"Normally, I'd try to do that, but I didn't do it this time because…um..well…"

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Oh no – don't tell me it's because you want to get something started with her. You know she's just a tease, right?"

"And you're not?" Fox fired back. "But I do want to check out that website…"

"You are unbelievable. And I don't mean that in the nice way," Scarlet grumbled.

"The same could be said about you," Fox retorted.

"What can I say? My reputation precedes me. Joking aside, we should start looking for that informant now that we can't go back into the hotel…thanks to _you."_ She prodded Fox with more force than necessary, causing him to step to the side and into a prickly hedge of shrubs that lined the hotel's front sidewalk.

Fox growled in pain, pushing himself out of the bushes before he brushed out his fur and glared at Scarlet. "Fine. What did General Pepper tell you about the informant's location?"

Scarlet's posture stiffened to imply seriousness and focus. "Pepper sent me his exact address after we arrived early this morning, so it won't be hard to find him. From what he told me, the informant has holed himself up in his house and won't come out for any reason. He might also have some kind of security measures set up around the place."

"Security measures? How legal?"

"Well, I would expect some cameras, but that's not much to be concerned about. He knows we're coming, and General Pepper has already told him what to look for. His name is Slippy Toad, by the way."

Fox frowned. "What I don't get here is why 'Slippy' didn't just give all his information to General Pepper over the phone. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."

"It's because he thinks he's being targeted and wants someone to get him out of Aquas first."

"Is he actually being targeted, or is he just paranoid? Who does he think is targeting him, anyway?"

Scarlet looked Fox in the eyes and answered, "If he's being targeted, it's either going to be East Fortuna or Macbeth that's after him. I would bet on the second of the two. They're much more powerful and have a better spy network, as you probably know. Personally, I think our informant might be in a bit of danger, but I think he's mostly just paranoid. I've been told that he won't leave the house because he thinks there's a sniper aiming at it, waiting for him to step out the front door. I'm not kidding! General Pepper sent me a few pictures of the house, and all the windows are covered up with plywood."

Fox chuckled and shook his head. "That's proof enough that there is no sniper, because five sheets of plywood isn't enough to stop one of those bullets."

"Exactly. If there was a sniper, he would have been killed by now," Scarlet replied.

"How does he get all of his supplies, though? Online ordering, I guess?"

"That's what I was thinking," said Scarlet. "Really, I'm not too excited about going into his house. It probably looks like my mom's art room after a day of nonstop sewing.³"

"Sounds like there's a story there."

"I'll tell you about it later. My family was…scratch that – _is_ weird. It's an interesting story."

"Hmm…" Fox mumbled. "Let's save that one for later when we need to kill time. Right now, we need to get to that house. What does your GPS say?"

Scarlet reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out her touchscreen phone, then selected a navigation icon that presented her with an overhead view of Portico. A blue circle marked her location; and a few miles to the west, a white arrow hovered over a section of the city built into a depression surrounded by palm trees.

"The house is five miles from here. It's a bit of a long way to walk. I'll handle our ride this time."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

The taxi's brakes groaned, the sound mixing with the crunching of the gravel road under the car's tires. After paying the driver, Fox opened his door, tossed his small bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the car with Scarlet in tow. The area in which the two found themselves still possessed the tropical aura of the surroundings, but something about the locale struck his as unpleasant. Palm trees and tropical bushes swayed in the ocean breeze, and a large hill marked the back end of the housing area where his journey ended. The gravel road in front of him sloped downwards, revealing five small mobile homes, one of which looked jerry-rigged with all sorts of bizarre contraptions. Even from a distance of two hundred feet, he made out the outlines of three security cameras mounted to the underside of the roof, along with the hideous plywood sniper cover that matched up with General Pepper's images.

As he stared at the undesirable dwelling, the taxi turned around and drove off. Scarlet stopped beside him and leaned on his shoulder, then whispered into his ear, "I think Pepper was a bit too generous with his use of the word 'house.'"⁴

Fox gently pushed Scarlet off of him and answered, "You're not kidding. This is a trailer park if I ever saw one. Now I'm actually glad you smuggled that gun of yours through airport security."

"Oh, give me a break, Fox. What are the odds that I'm actually going to need to use it?"

Fox narrowed his eyes. "One thing I've learned over the years is to never let your guard down. This could be a lot more dangerous than we think it is. Just think – what would we have to do if this informant's paranoia is actually justified?"

"I doubt that it's anywhere near as bad as he thinks it is," Scarlet scoffed.

"So do I, but he does have information that Pepper needs, though. I know he definitely wouldn't send us here if that wasn't true. Just don't let your guard down."

"Fair enough," Scarlet replied.

Fox and Scarlet walked towards the house with a trace of uncertainty in their minds. As much as they wanted to dismiss the informant's extreme precautions as nothing more than madness, both of them wondered if he had a legitimate reason for covering his house in security cameras and boarding up all the windows. Stepping onto the half-withered grass in front of the rickety porch that marked the front of the mobile home, Scarlet suddenly snapped her head to the left. For some reason, she expected to see something of note, but only trees, bushes, grass, and a plastic pink flamingo in the informant's yard met her eyes. The bowl-shaped depression that contained the trailer park blocked the rest of Portico from her view, effectively hemming in the trashy hamlet.

Scarlet shook her head and led Fox up the rotting steps leading to the front door. Both of them could feel the security cameras recording their every move, and they knew that whoever was inside the house was well aware of their presence. Taking a deep breath, Scarlet rapped on the white front door. Five seconds later, a frightened, high-pitched voice responded, "Who is it?"

"We're working for General Pepper," Scarlet replied. "We need to find out what you know."

For three tense seconds, silence fell over the trailer park, apart from the rustling of an abandoned fast food bag nearby. Then, the door swung open, revealing a rotund, green frog who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Bloodshot eyes accompanied his trembling hands, although the rest of him looked somewhat presentable. He wore a black t-shirt and matching black cargo pants, with a laughably small red and white hat positioned atop his head to complete his unusual appearance. He held a sawed-off pump shotgun in his right hand; and judging from the location of his trigger finger, Fox noted that he had been preparing to use it on him and Scarlet if they had not been who they claimed to be. "C…Come in," the frog croaked.

Fox and Scarlet looked at each other, then followed the informant into his mobile home. To Scarlet's surprise, his residence looked much cleaner than she had expected. However, one egregious detail stood out above all others.

"Where did you get all these guns?" she asked, noticing the line of firearms leaning against the left wall across from the tiny kitchen area.

Slippy turned around and ambiguously replied, "Being a mercenary has its advantages. There's always a way to get these things through customs if you've got an alibi as a merc."

"Speaking of that," said Fox. "What was your position in Anthracite Security? Why aren't you with them anymore?"

"I was their engineering specialist. I also flew the helicopters," Slippy replied. "Why do you care about this stuff?"

"No reason in particular."

The sleepless amphibian narrowed his oversized eyes. "If you're not going to tell me that, I'm not going to tell you why they kicked me out. Sound good?"

"Fine," Fox growled.

Slippy stepped into the diminutive living room and snatched a large gym bag off of his old, roughshod purple couch. "You two brought a car with you, right?"

Fox and Scarlet glanced at each other through their peripheral vision. "No," Fox replied.

Barely managing to hold onto his bag, Slippy snapped, "Why not? There are people after me. There's a sniper out there. He's been hounding me for days! Call a taxi now!"

Scarlet put her hands on her hips. "If there's a sniper watching you, you're going to need a lot more than a taxi to protect you, pal."

"You're right! Call a limo service. Make sure the windows are tinted black. We can have them park on the side of the building so when we get in, the sniper won't be able to pick us off. He's behind the house, shooting from the hill to the left of the front door."

Scarlet raised her eyebrows. "You know, I thought I saw something up there. But if he's aimed at the house, why didn't he shoot us when we walked up to your front door?"

"They're after me, not you," Slippy replied. "I've got the secrets they don't want to leak out."

Crossing his arms, Fox asked, "Can't you just give us the information now? We're not going to leave you here."

"Sorry, but I don't trust you. When we're out of Aquas, I'll tell you everything."

Fox scowled and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and searching for a nearby limo service. "Fine. Scars, this limo ride makes us even."

"Not if you keep calling me that," Scarlet huffed.

While Slippy nervously looked around the interior of his mobile home as if someone was about to burst through one of the boarded-up windows, Fox raised his phone to ear level and waited until he heard the soft voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line.

"This is Grand Limousine Rentals, Avenura airport branch. How can we help you today?"

Attempting to disguise his frustration, Fox replied, "Hey, good morning. I need to schedule a pick-up at 701 Tumbleweed Drive in Portico. How soon can you get out here? Any car will work as long as it has tinted rear windows."

Fox could tell that he had taken the receptionist off guard with his forwardness. Trying to form a coherent sting of sentences, she answered, _"Um…We have an SUV returning from a previous drop-off right now. I can have it out to you in twenty minutes. What's your name?"_

Glancing at Slippy, he told the receptionist, "Fox McCloud. If twenty minutes is the earliest you can send it over, that's fine. I'll pay the driver when he arrives. I can do that, right?"

 _"Yes, Mr. McCloud. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"_

"No, that's it. Thanks," Fox finished, closing the call and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

Scarlet crossed her arms and sighed. "I guess now we wait."

While she turned towards the main entry door, Fox glanced at her and said, "Now's as good a time as ever to tell me about your family."

Scarlet looked back at Fox with a deer in the headlights expression, but it softened into an uneasy grin as the seconds passed. "Sure. Come a bit closer, Fox."

Following Scarlet's instructions, he crept towards the red vixen until only two feet separated them. Judging from her mannerisms, she would have preferred Slippy not to overhear what she was about to say. Slippy himself took notice of this and walked towards the living room, flopping down on the old couch that sat in front of an even more antiquated television that looked like it hadn't worked in years.

With the amphibian out of earshot, Scarlet whispered, "Don't tell me I didn't warn you about this, because it's not a very happy story."

"I think I can handle it," Fox replied. "You and your family seemed close enough when I met you at the reunion all those years ago."

A tinge of pink appeared on Scarlet's cheeks, her blush indicative of one particular memory that she held dear to her heart while at the same time feeling ashamed of it. A moment later, her innocence disappeared, replaced by stone-faced frustration. "You wouldn't have said that if you knew who they really were. I ended up in child protective services a month after the reunion and haven't seen anyone in my birth family since then – apart from you, I guess. But then again, you're legally not even related to me anymore. That's a story in and of itself."

"Please explain," said Fox.

Scarlet held up a finger. "Okay, okay. A weird leopard couple adopted me after I was put in foster care. I don't know why they wanted to adopt a rebellious teenage vixen, but I'm sure as hell glad they did. I love my stepparents. Maybe I'll take you to meet them someday."

"Well, your mom makes fetish clothing, so these must be interesting people," Fox commented.

A smile creased Scarlet's lips. "Very interesting. They used to be royals in Zoness, before they got kicked out during the war that happened there thirty years ago. I guess they somehow took their money with them, because when they emigrated to Corneria, they built a palace and everything."

Fox's eyebrows lifted in incredulity. "You're telling me you got to live as a royal? Does that mean I need to start calling you 'princess?'"

"I will kick you in the balls if you call me that," Scarlet replied with a glint in her eye.

The offer was too good for Fox to refuse. "Princess."

"Oh, you asked for it now!" the vixen shouted. In the blink of an eye, she lashed out with her powerful right leg. Fox, however, was ready. Stepping to the side, he avoided her kick. Not expecting to miss, Scarlet lost her balance and slipped on the dusty floor. She fell onto her back with a grunt of pain.

Despite her failure to exact justice upon Fox, a goofy smile dominated her face. "Screw you. A little help here?" She held up her hand, and Fox took her cue, lifting her back onto her feet. At the same time, Slippy poked his head over the back of the couch behind the two and wondered what sort of madness had just occurred.

Both foxes were all smiles for a moment. Then, however, both of them heard the sound of gravel outside the house. Fox tilted his head in the direction of the sound, unable to look through the boarded-up sliding door on the right wall that would have normally allowed him to look outside. "Is our ride here already? It's only been ten minutes."

"You'd better get out there and check to make sure," Slippy replied from the couch.

Scarlet frowned and whispered into Fox's ear, "I don't like this. Something seems wrong. I'm going with you."

Fox mumbled a few incoherent syllables, then walked past the kitchen, towards the plywood-covered sliding door on the right side of the mobile home. Not sure what to expect outside the house, Fox unlatched the door and slid it open. As he stepped outside, a long, black limousine pulled up to the steps outside the door. The driver's side window rolled down, revealing a sharp-dressed Doberman. "Good morning. I'm here for a 'Slippy Toad.' Is he inside?"

Fox and Scarlet locked eyes, then Fox approached the car. The air around the limousine grew tense as he stared at the canine with an expression that he thought could have melted ice. He watched the driver's countenance change to reflect an air of tension and fear. At that moment, he put his faith in his instincts and lunged forward. Before the Doberman could react, Fox punched him in the face, then reached inside his door and grabbed the latch. The instant the door opened, Fox reached in and threw the driver to the ground.

He looked towards Scarlet, then heard the sound of frantic footsteps on the ground, coming from behind the limousine. He opened his mouth to warn the vixen, but she already knew what to expect. In two quick motions, she unzipped her jacket and pulled out her handgun. Backing against the side of the car and crouching below the windows, she crept towards the back, making every effort to avoid crunching her feet on the gravel. Then, she pushed herself away from the side of the limo and turned around. A massive gray wolf crouched behind the back bumper with a military-grade assault rifle in his hands. He swung the weapon in Scarlet's direction, but she lined up her sights and fired a single shot between his eyes before he could place his finger on the trigger.

The wolf's body dropped to the ground, allowing Scarlet to focus on the front of the car, where the driver struggled to get up and fight back against Fox. The vulpine pressed his shoes into the Doberman's back and prevented him from moving, but when the dog made a frantic attempt at curling up and grabbing his leg, Fox took his foot off the driver's back and slammed it into the back of his head. "Scarlet! Do a body search!"

"I don't have anything on me!" the canine snarled. "You're going to pay for this!"

Scarlet bared her teeth and knelt next to the furious dog. "We'll see about that, sunshine. Don't resist, or I'll make your dentist a happy man, if you know what I mean."

Reaching for his pockets, Scarlet's fingers dug through each of them until she felt the surface of a leather wallet in the back of his pants. She pulled it out and opened it, then glanced at the driver's ID card on the wallet's left flap.

 _"Marco Thomaso, Species: Doberman Pinscher, Height: 6'0", Weight: 175lb. Residence: 4224 Lindmarck Ave., Frontier City, Macbeth."_

Scarlet's eyes narrowed as she read the word 'Macbeth' on his ID. The once-mighty Western-pangea nation often acted as a thorn in Corneria's side, recently by smuggling arms to East Fortunan rebel forces via a mercenary proxy. Dropping the wallet, Scarlet aimed her handgun at the Doberman's head and stood up. "Slippy! Grab the bags and get ready to go now!" she ordered, looking towards the opened door on the side of the amphibian's mobile home.

"Where's he from?" Fox demanded.

"Macbeth," Scarlet growled. "Looks like I was right. Let's take care of this right now. Take your foot off his neck, and don't you dare ask any questions."

Fox reluctantly obeyed and took a step back. "What are you do…"

 **BANG!**

Fox clasped a hand over his mouth as Scarlet's bullet ripped a hole in the canine's skull and sent a faint spray of blood into the air. "Why did you do that?!"

Scarlet shrugged. "In case you didn't notice, there's a dead body behind the car, and a gun just went off in a wide open neighborhood. The cops will be on us in minutes if we don't split. Now I'm starting to wonder if there actually _is_ a sniper aiming at the house."

Still in a state of shock, Fox sized up Scarlet, whose clothes and fur bore noticeable traces of blood spatter. Other things demanded his attention at the moment, however.

While Fox stared at her, Scarlet turned towards the mobile home and cupped her hand over the right side of her mouth. "Slippy! Come on! Let's go!" She turned towards her partner a second later. "Fox—help me put the bodies in the trunk. We'll figure out what to do with them later."

While Slippy darted for the door at the rear of the stretched car with both his and his new acquaintances' bags in hand, Fox picked up the driver's dead body and dragged it towards the back of the car. Scarlet opened the back and shoved the other body into the trunk. While Fox did the same with the driver's corpse, Scarlet ran around the front of the car and jumped into the passenger seat, leaving Fox to take the wheel. As he stepped into the car, he looked around the trailer park and saw a terrified raccoon standing on his front porch a hundred feet away, staring at the scene in front of him. "Dammit—I knew all that noise was going to make everyone freak out."

Closing his door and looking over his shoulder at Slippy, Fox shouted, "Does this gravel drive loop around to the entrance?"

"It does," Slippy replied. "Hurry up and get us out of here. The cops will be here any minute now!"

Fox gritted his teeth and shifted the limo into gear. Punching the gas, he followed the gravel drive as it formed a right hairpin curve around a small pond covered in unsightly algae. As he passed the mobile next to Slippy, the raccoon on the front porch darted back inside, slamming the door behind him. His eyes drifted towards the mobile until Scarlet prodded him in the arm in time to prevent him from driving off the road.

He saw the trailer park's exit up ahead, and to his right, he took a quick glance at Slippy's house. Then, somewhere on the hill that overlooked it, he thought he saw something. Out of nothing more than instinct, he slid forward in his seat until his head was below the steering wheel and shouted, "Get down!"

Less than a second later, a bullet screamed through the limousine's front windows, shattering the glass in its wake. Scarlet let out an uncharacteristically girly scream and threw her hands up in terror as her window exploded. While she forced herself to reclaim her poise, Fox clutched his head and roared in pain. Grabbing the steering wheel for him, Scarlet shouted, "Fox! What happened?"

"I think that bullet caught me in the ear," he grunted, pulling his hand away from his ear and cringing when he saw blood covering his entire palm. "Stay down – they're probably going to shoot a…"

A second shot shattered the passenger side back window mere feet away from where Slippy had seated himself. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Fox craned his neck and looked back towards Slippy to find him lying prone on the floor under his seat. The frog held his eyes closed, but his panicked breathing made it clear that he was still very much alive.

Fox turned his head back towards the road, only to be thrown to the right and into Scarlet's shoulder when she turned the wheel to the left in an attempt at leaving the trailer park. The car swerved back and forth as Fox struggled to regain control, but after wresting the wheel from Scarlet and trying to ignore the searing pain in his right ear, he centered the limousine in the right lane and set the cruise control.

"I didn't ask you to drive for me!" he snapped at Scarlet, whose fur still stood on end from her brush with death.

"Hey, I was just trying to help! I thought that bullet might have hit you somewhere more important. I know the airport is the other way, but I needed to get out of that sniper's sights before we did anything else."

Fox sighed and clutched his bleeding ear. "Thanks. You did the right thing. Slippy's still alive, and we should be in the clear…for the time being."

Through the windshield, Scarlet noticed a distant series of flashing lights approaching them in the distance and glared at her counterpart with a fearful expression. "Fox! Get off the road now!"

The two-lane road in front of them seemed to stretch for miles without the slightest curve, and near the edge of Portico, rural areas overtook the cityscape several miles behind them. To the left, a vast expanse of palm trees lay interspersed with a number of older, low-budget houses; and to the right, the only scenery amounted to a vast orange grove. Then, Fox spotted a paper-thin dirt trail that seemed to lead into the grove. Slamming on the brakes, he dove off the road and onto the snaking dirt pathway that barely accommodated the limousine. With the road behind him, he found himself driving through a seemingly-endless lane of orange trees, most of which were ripe with fruit. As beautiful as he thought the scenery was, he realized that he had made a grave mistake. Although he saw no one around, he feared the wrath of the orange grove's owner, wherever he was. He tried to think up an explanation for why he had driven a limousine into an orange grove without coming up with anything overly suspicious, but nothing came to mind.

By this point, he thought he had driven far enough to avoid detection by the police, who were no doubt on the way to investigate the violent series of events surrounding Slippy's mobile home. He stopped the car and moved his hand to the column shifter to engage the park gear, but then his ears picked up on the most horrible of noises – the sound of an approaching vehicle.

Cursing his luck, he threw the car in reverse and pushed the throttle, but he quickly realized that over two hundred feet of orange grove separated him from the road. Although he refused to admit it, he knew he had no chance of escaping the grove before the nearby farm hand caught him trespassing on his land.

Scarlet attempted to read Fox's mind through his actions and pulled out her handgun. "I'll handle this."

Fox slammed on the brakes and stopped the car. "Are you serious, Scarlet?"

"I'm not going to blow this job⁵ because some redneck farmer got in my way."

"No. I am not letting you do that. Absolutely not," Fox affirmed, grinding his teeth to illustrate his seriousness. "We're not going to just gun down civilians because it's convenient. Man, I hope you haven't been making that a regular habit."

Scarlet scratched her muzzle and replied, "No, but sometimes those people can really get in the way. Sometimes one of them is the difference between you dying and living to fight another day. Hey – we _are_ mercenaries, you know. We don't operate under the same laws as police or the military."

"Well, some of us have standards, unlike you," Fox growled.

"My standard is success," Scarlet retorted. "Whatever it takes to get the job done, I'll do it."

Fox's attention wandered back to the path in front of him. Another path intersected it at a ninety degree angle, and an old, blue pickup truck with wooden rails on the sides clattered to a stop thirty feet in front of them. "Crap. They spotted us," Fox muttered.

He reached for his door handle, all the while looking for the driver of the vehicle. He expected to see an old, crotchety farmer, but shock overtook him when he laid eyes on the farm hand. In complete contrast to what he imagined, an orange-furred vixen with black hair⁶ climbed out of the truck. She wore a red gingham shirt that she left unbuttoned below her chest, along with a pair of torn light blue jean shorts similar to the ones that Scarlet had on at the moment. For a moment, Fox forget what he planned to do and simply stared at her as she walked around the front of her truck and approached the limo. That is, until Scarlet punched him in the arm.

As she neared the car, she laid eyes on Fox, tilted her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes. She motioned for Fox to roll his window down, but when she realized that the window had been shot out, she walked up to the side of the car and crouched next to Fox's door. Making her frustration known to him, she asked, "What are you doing here? This is private property."

Fox recalled Scarlet's advice from earlier and fabricated a lie on the spot. "Um…we got lost and we were trying to turn around, but when we pulled off the road, we realized that the traffic was too heavy to back into. So, we figured there would be another way out if we drove in here. I guess there isn't one. Sorry."

The farming vixen bared her canines. "Aright, I'll tell you what, pal. Tell me the real reason you drove into my orange grove, and I'll consider not taking you to court for trespassing."

Fox turned to Scarlet and gave her the most evil expression he had at his disposal. Then, he forced himself to look at the furious vixen outside the car. He tried to keep his vision focused on her face, but one too many of her shirt's buttons were left unfastened. "Alright – if I tell you the truth, I expect you to believe me, okay?"

"Yeah. Spit it out. You'd better have a damn good reason for this," she growled.

Fox bit his lip, feeling the blood dripping down the side of his head from his injured ear. "Okay –we're mercenaries from Corneria, and we're trying to help our passenger in the back seat get out of the country. Let's just say we had an 'incident' while trying to get him out of his house, and now the police are trying to figure out what happened. The area around his house is extremely hot right now, and we couldn't risk having to explain ourselves to the cops. We saw them coming, so we pulled off the road and ended up here."

The vixen's expression softened, with surprise and mild fear replacing her previous anger, especially when she noticed the bloodstained fur on the right side of Fox's head and the blood coating Scarlet's white shirt. "Whoa. You really did have an 'incident'. Are you going to be all right?"

"I think so," Fox replied. "All we need is a way to get to the airport without being stopped for questioning."

For a moment, the vixen nervously glanced both ways before whispering, "Be honest – do you think I'm going to be in danger if I help you out?"

Fox gritted his teeth. "I don't know. The only thing I'm concerned about is them tracking this car to your place."

"I've got a big barn where I store my farm equipment. I'm sure I could hide it there for the time being," the vixen suggested.

"That's just the thing…we've got bodies in the trunk."

The vixen stepped back in shock, then paused for thought and looked away from Fox before she collected herself and said, "I can't believe I'm saying this; but I've got a big patch of ground out in the middle of nowhere where you could bury them."

Fox's eyes softened in sympathy for the orange grove's owner. "You don't have to help us if you don't want to. If that bothers you too much, just tell us to leave and we'll figure out another way to get to the airport." Immediately after he spoke, Scarlet glared daggers at him and snarled.

Shaking her head, the farming vixen explained, "No, I think I want to help you guys out. This wouldn't be the first time I've done something like this.⁷"

"Care to explain that?"

The vixen gave him a sly grin that masked an underlying emotion of anger. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you – literally."

Fox let out an uneasy sigh, then said, "All right. Let's hurry up and deal with the car and the bodies in the trunk before someone shows up to ask about them."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Scarlet originally woke up wearing a slightly more presentable set of night clothes, but in hindsight, that was out of character for her. Considering that Scarlet prefers to sleep naked, this outfit is her idea of "decent."

2 Originally, they just left, which meant that they left their bags in their room. Yeah, that was dumb.

3 Scarlet's stepparents weren't well defined early on in the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ , and this was adjusted to reflect the changes.

4 A trailer is a trailer, but Slippy's dwelling was somewhat inspired by Lester's place in Grand Theft Auto V.

5 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

6 This is Silvia Rosenthal from _The Iridium Chronicle_ , my first fanfic which is no longer published anywhere (although Elarix has a copy of the manuscript, probably to use as blackmail against me). As in this story, Silvia owned a large orange grove which was handed down to her by her deceased parents.

7 This refers to her offering refuge to the fugitive Supreme Commander of Icthos in _The Iridium Chronicle_.


	4. The Not-So-Great Escape

**Arc I: The Aquas Informant**

 _Part 3: The Not-So-Great Escape¹_

* * *

With the damaged limousine stored in the back of the farming vixen's enormous red barn and the bodies of their former assailants disposed of, Fox, Scarlet, and Slippy followed the grove's owner – named Silvia – back to her house. The small, white building stood roughly two hundred feet from the road that Fox had driven off of to avoid the police and looked to have been built thirty years prior to the present date. Another red barn stood to the right of it, and as the four neared the large outdoor porch that marked the front of Silvia's house, Fox noticed a large, older model SUV in the driveway.

Upon opening the front door, Silvia turned to Fox and Scarlet and said, "You can use the guest bathroom upstairs to clean up. Whenever you're ready, we'll head to the airport."

Fox nodded in gratitude. "Thanks, Silvia. I can't tell you how happy I am that you offered to help us."

"I get the feeling it's the right thing to do," she replied. "Now don't make me regret it."

Following Silvia, Fox and Scarlet stepped into the farmhouse while Slippy remained outside. Judging from his expression, they wanted Fox and Scarlet to clean themselves up as quickly as possible so he could leave the orange grove. He feared that the police—or worse, the sniper—would find a way to track him down, and the likelihood of that eventuality terrified him to the point of following the three vulpines into Silvia's house.

Inside, Silvia pointed Fox and Scarlet in the direction of a staircase that led him to a guest bedroom that looked like it had been unused for quite some time. No noticeable decorations stood out to either of them as they entered the room and located the adjacent bathroom, which both foxes darted into. Scarlet slammed the door shut, then immediately located the nearby bathtub/shower combination and turned on the water.

"Scarlet, what are you…?"

The vixen yanked her shirt over her head, baring her back except for a pink lace bra. "Cleaning up this blood! Do you really think airport security is going to let us through if I've got red splatters all over me?" Without hesitation, she unbuttoned her jean shorts and pushed them down, although Fox turned away to give her a faint sense of privacy—not that she cared. Fox looked away mainly to focus on his own injury without being distracted.

While Scarlet disrobed completely and stepped into the shower, Fox stared at his reflection in the mirror. To his relief, the gunshot wound to his right ear looked far less serious than it felt. By this point, his ear had stopped bleeding, and only the tip of it was missing. He wondered if anyone would even notice it after the currently-forming scab disappeared.

After cleaning his face, he snatched a towel from a nearby hanger and dried his fur with it. Not a moment later, Scarlet turned off the shower and shook out her pelt, then peeled back the shower curtain and stepped out. Due to her trimming her normally-lush fur coat down to a close-cropped length, her fur dried much more quickly than it normally would have. However, it had one other effect that locked Fox in place. Namely, having close-cut fur showcased her body's every curve and ridge that she seemed shameless about revealing to him, from her defined collarbones to her voluptuous, supple breasts, to her white-coated, mildly rounded stomach that suggested both devoted fitness training and a healthy appetite, to her shapely, rounded flanks and powerful legs that still managed to look graceful.

Time froze for Fox. That is, until Scarlet snapped her head in his direction and glared at him. "What's the problem? You've seen me naked before.² Come on—let's go!"

Fox vigorously shook his head in an attempt at recalibrating his attention, while at the same time, Scarlet put her undergarments back on and started digging through her bag, which she had brought with her into the bathroom. Seconds later, she pulled out a navy blue catsuit made out of a lightweight, stretchy fabric and stepped into it. She zipped it up and grabbed her bag in two quick motions, then unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out.

The two headed downstairs where Silvia and Slippy awaited them. Opening the front door, the farming vixen pulled a set of keys out of her jean shorts and stepped onto the porch. Just before he followed her outside, Fox noticed a coat hanging on a pole in the nearby kitchen. The gray jacket seemed far too large for Silvia to wear, and it looked like it would have covered most of the wearer's legs. Even more oddly, he noticed a gray phoenix emblem pinned onto the front of the coat³. He continued to stare at it until Silvia let out a quiet growl that seemed to say, "That's none of your business."

The four made their way to the driveway, where Silvia unlocked her SUV and said, "Get in. We'll get to the airport one way or another. Where are you taking off from? The service runway?"

"Yeah," Fox replied. "I really hope our little skirmish back at Slippy's place doesn't put us in…oh shit."

Scarlet's eyes widened. "What, Fox?"

"The limo that was actually supposed to come to Slippy's place is probably there right now. My name was on it, and they'll give it to the cops. If we don't get to the airport before that information gets distributed, we're not going to be able to leave."

"This is turning into the mission from hell," Scarlet groaned, deliberately pointing at Slippy. "And frog-boy over here still won't tell me what he knows!"

Baring her teeth, Silvia snapped, "Get in the car! You're not doing yourselves any favors by bickering!"

Fox and Scarlet shut their mouths and climbed into the SUV, with Scarlet taking the shotgun seat and leaving Fox and Slippy to take the rear. Silvia shoved her key into the ignition and turned it, only for the car to try and fail to turn over. Growling in frustration, she turned the key two more times until the engine finally sputtered to life. "I need to replace that starter⁴," she muttered, just loudly enough for Scarlet to hear.

Pulling out of the driveway and onto the main road, Silvia headed south towards Avenura along the two-lane road that went past Slippy's trailer park. As they drove past the dingy locale, Fox glanced out his right side window and saw three police cars parked in front of Slippy's mobile, along with the limo service's SUV that he had called for earlier. The limo driver seemed to be conversing with the police.

Turning his head in Silvia's direction, he asked her, "How far is it to the airport?"

"It'll take about twenty minutes to get there," the vixen replied. "You're going to have to hurry once we arrive."

While Silvia replied to Fox, Scarlet opened the glovebox and pulled out a small submachine gun hidden underneath the registration and inspection papers. For a moment, she admired the gun, then commented, "This is a nice one. Where did you get it?"

Silvia swerved in shock and yelled, "Put that back! Didn't anyone ever teach you not to go through other people's stuff?"

"Um, no," Scarlet replied, looking confused. "I was just giving you a compliment. Is it yours?"

Silvia narrowed her eyes and quietly answered, "No. It belongs to my boyfriend…husband…unofficial mate for life.⁵ Ugh, it's complicated. Now put it back before someone sees it!"

"Sheesh, fine," Scarlet relented, sliding the gun back into the glove compartment and covering it with the other papers inside.

For the rest of the trip, Scarlet sat in silence, leaving Fox to make small talk with Slippy in the back seat. As much as she hated to admit it, she feared that Fox was attempting to recruit him. She paid little attention to their conversation, but various words such as 'skills', 'missions', 'engineering', and 'money' managed to sneak through to her ears.

 _"Ugh…I don't like him. He's been nothing but deadweight so far, and Fox is already trying to recruit him. Go figure. Then again, I'm not the one who needs to be hiring people. Man, being a one-woman mercenary force makes things so much simpler. I have no idea how Fox manages to run his whole operation without going insane."_

In time, as the rural roads gave way to dense civilization, the imposing Avenura airport came into view. After entering the carousel leading to the terminal area, Silvia pulled into the parking garage and stopped in the loading zone in front of the terminal doors. As the three mercenaries jumped out of the SUV, Silvia shouted, "Good luck, guys! Oh – and Fox, you might want to keep an eye on your girlfriend. She's trouble."

With that, she drove off, leaving Fox with his face red. Seizing the opportunity, Scarlet approached him and planted a quick, teasing kiss on his cheek. Fox swung his hand at her face, but she expected it and backed away before he could slap her.

Scratching his head, Slippy asked, "Wait…You guys aren't dating?"

Fox covered his face with his hand. "No, Slippy."

Scarlet smirked. "Not yet."

Turning towards Scarlet with frustration in his voice and expression, he blurted out, "Really? You think I'm going to just turn around and forget what you did last year?"

"What do you mean? I never…"

The reality dawned on her.

"Ohhhhhh…that. Look—I'm sorry that didn't go over well. Can we talk about it later?"

Fox crossed his arms and eyes the airport terminal. "Please."

Slippy looked around, fidgeting nervously all the while. "Uh, guys, shouldn't we be getting out of here?"

"Right," Fox replied, leading him and Scarlet into the airport terminal. Upon walking through the sliding glass doors, the three laid eyes on the vast maze of ticket counters and security checkpoints contained inside the building.

The lines for passenger flights stretched for over a hundred feet, but Fox ignored them. He knew that passing through the line for private aircraft would be a quick and mostly painless affair, although he began worrying about Scarlet's concealed handgun. She claimed that it contained no metal parts, but he still feared that airport security would discover it.

With Scarlet and Slippy in tow, he approached the empty private aircraft security station and placed his shoes and the contents of his pockets in the provided bin before stepping into the metal detector. Several seconds later, the gray cat operating the system motioned him through and allowed him to claim his belongings. Scarlet followed him, but due to her overly tall boots, she struggled to remove them and motioned for Slippy to move in front of her. While the airport worker checked him for any metal implements, Fox cleared his throat in a tense manner and whispered, "Scarlet, we've got to go. Hurry up."

"I know, Fox," she snapped, straining to pull off her boots.

"No – behind you."

Scarlet stood up and glanced over her shoulder in time to see two police officers sprinting in their direction. _"You've got to be kidding me."_

Without waiting for her, Fox and Slippy darted out of the terminal and into a corridor that led to the boarding area. Cursing her affinity for unnecessarily tall boots with too many laces, she pulled her shoes back on and bolted through the metal detector. The feline working the machine flew into a panic and screamed, "Hey! What are you doing?"

Scarlet ignored him and rounded the distant corner into the boarding area only to find that Fox and Slippy had already opened up a significant lead on her. She watched as Fox dodged the myriad passengers in the wide hallway and shoved open a side door that read 'Airport Personnel Only.' Five seconds after Slippy vanished through the door with him, Scarlet pushed it open with her shoulder and raced down the steps on the other side. The door led outside, and over a mile of airport stretched out in front of her, with more than ten airliners and even more airport vehicles that darted in and out of areas where orange-vested airport workers tossed bags of all shapes and sizes into the airplanes. Scarlet caught up with Fox and Slippy at the bottom of the stairs and gasped for breath while trying to pose a question. "W…Where's the _Great Fox?"_

"Over there," Fox replied, pointing towards a distant concrete pad where the massive transport ship rested. Scarlet bit her lip when she realized that over a half mile separated them from the freighter. She knew above all that speed would mean the difference between escape and incarceration – and the last thing she wanted was to end up in an Aqauasian prison.

When one of the airport workers gave the three an evil glare, Scarlet broke into a run and darted towards an empty stair car next to a thin airliner with two rear-mounted engines. The worker – an overweight mole – ran towards Scarlet in an attempt at preventing her from trespassing any farther, but she jump-kicked him while running and knocked him onto his back. He sat up and tried pushing himself off the ground, but was forced back to the pavement when Slippy unintentionally barreled over him.

With the stair car hers for the taking, Scarlet looked over her shoulder and breathed a momentary sigh of relief when she saw no police officers anywhere in the vicinity. _"This just might work,"_ she told herself as she jumped into the stair car's open air driver's seat. Slippy slid into the seat to her right, while Fox climbed onto the stairs themselves and braced himself as Scarlet started the engine and throttled out of the area.⁶

The mobile stairs crept along the concrete, refusing to move any faster than twenty miles per hour. The _Great Fox_ slowly grew in Scarlet's vision as the lumbering vehicle traversed the airport's access lanes, fortuitously clear of airplanes for the time being. Then, when escape seemed certain, she heard Fox shout, "Scarlet! We've got company!"

The vixen looked over her shoulder in time to see three airport security SUVs bearing down on them, tearing through the airfield grass in their mad pursuit. Turning her attention back to the pavement in front of her, she unzipped her jacket, yelled, "Fox! Catch!" and tossed her handgun over her head. Fox snatched the weapon out of midair, then snapped, "You expect me to shoot airport security?"

"It's either them or us!"

"I'm not going to do it, Scarlet!" Fox replied over the increasing sound of the pursuing vehicles' sirens.

Baring her teeth, Scarlet ignored her uncooperative partner and set her eyes on the _Great Fox,_ now only thirty yards away. She could hear airport security closing in on her, but she pushed them out of her mind and aimed for the transport's side access door behind the cockpit. At the last possible moment, she slammed on the brakes. The stair car groaned to a stop, bumping into the side of the _Great Fox_ with the top of the stairs aligned with the side door. Without even turning off the engine, she jumped out of the driver's seat and swung herself onto the stairs.

Fox scaled the mobile staircase and pulled the side access door open, with Slippy racing up the stairs as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him. The three airport vehicles stopped behind the stair car, and five armed security officers jumped out. As Slippy reached the top of the stairs and stepped inside the transport behind Fox and Scarlet, the lead security officer aimed his handgun at him and barked, "Don't close that door! All of you, come out of there with your hands up, or we will use lethal force!"

Slippy responded by shutting the door a second before the _Great Fox's_ six engines began spooling up.⁷ The massive aircraft crept away from the security force, turning to line up with the adjacent runway at an agonizingly slow rate. Nevertheless, the security forces knew they could do nothing to stop the plane from leaving the airport apart from sacrificing themselves by driving in front of the landing gear while it tried to take off.⁸ For seconds, they stood stock-still, watching the _Great Fox_ back into position until it came to a stop.

Suddenly, the leader realized that his vehicles were too close to the jet wash coming from the _Great Fox's_ engines. He yelled, "Move the cars!" but his words fell on deaf ears when the hulking transport increased its engine thrust and started advancing down the runway. The security force leader and his subordinates sprinted towards their cars, but it was too late. As the _Great Fox's_ engines spooled up to their maximum thrust, the air flowing through them caught the security unit, the three SUVs, and the hapless stair car, sending them tumbling end over end down the runway.

Inside the cockpit, Fox breathed a sigh of relief as the _Great Fox's_ wheels left the pavement. For the moment, he reached for one of the plane's innumerable buttons and switched off his radio channel with the airport. He knew that the control tower would have a few choice words for him, and he had no intention of hearing them. With the airport shrinking in the distance behind the _Great Fox_ , Scarlet unbuckled her seatbelt, although she stayed in the co-pilot's seat next to Fox.

"Sorry that had to happen," she said, rolling her eyes while working to calm her breathing.

Fox's eyebrows narrowed, and Scarlet could tell that he shared the same mindset. "I took a mission like this from Pepper a few years back. It ended a lot like this one did. But, the good news here is that I may have a recruit."

"Him? Really?"

Noticing Scarlet's unhappy expression, Fox replied, "Combat-ready technology and engineering experts are hard to come by. I'll admit that he's a bit strange, but I'm confident that I can work with him pretty easily. I've had much stranger people in my unit before. Plus, he's an expert helicopter pilot. I can barely even fly that gunship in the lower deck."

"I'm guessing helicopter training was the hardest part for you during the Advanced Soldier Training Program? I'll admit that I almost failed the whole course because of that. I haven't tried flying a helicopter since then, either."

"I've done it a few times, but only when no one else was available to do it and when there was no danger involved – other than the danger of me crashing, of course," Fox smirked.

Scarlet shook her head, then looked out the cockpit windows. "Where are we headed now? Back to Corneria?"

Fox shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Because we had to do an emergency takeoff, I didn't get the chance to refuel. We've only got a third of our fuel reserves left. If you've ever looked at a map before, you'd know that Zoness sits between Corneria and Aquas; and since Zoness⁹ hates anything to do with mercenaries, they won't even let us into their airspace. To get to Aquas, we had to fly over the ocean to the south of Zoness and then go north to land in Aquas. In other words, we don't have enough fuel to make it back to Corneria going the same route."

"Where are we going, then?" Scarlet griped.

"We do have a few options, although I don't think any of them are ideal. Based on where we are, the countries on the western continent are actually going to be closer than anything in Fortuna, which is the closest thing to the east that isn't in Entitled Prick Land, otherwise known as Zoness. For obvious reasons, Macbeth is out of the question, Titania is too far away, and Eladard has too many restrictions on mercenaries, which leaves us with Katina and Papetoon. We could try to stretch our fuel range and land in Fortuna,¹⁰ but I'm not confident that we could make it that far."

Scarlet groaned. "Ugh – I don't like either of those options."

"Do you have a problem with Katina?" asked Fox.

"Well, not really," Scarlet explained, "It's just that I've made a few enemies there that I don't want you to have to deal with because of me."

Fox smiled at the vixen. "How noble. I didn't think you had it in you. Still, I think I'd rather deal with that than land in Papetoon. I hear it's the closest thing to hell on earth. I've never been there before, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to. Besides, we're only going to be in Katina for a few hours at most. Once we've refueled the _Great Fox_ , we'll head back to Corneria. I guess that's where we part ways again, huh?"

Scarlet's eyes softened, revealing a tinge of disappointment. "As stupid as this mission was, I enjoyed it so much more than the other jobs I pulled over the last two months. Are you doing anything after you get back to Corneria?"

Fox shook his head and replied, "Nope. Not unless someone feels like hooking me up with more work." He looked specifically at her.

"Hey, hey—that's not my department," the vixen retorted, pointing her finger at him. "Do I look like a temp agency to you?"

"You never seem to have problems getting work lined up," Fox grumbled, crossing his arms.

Scarlet shrugged. "It's because I'm versatile. I wear many hats."

"I've never even seen you wear a hat."

"It's a metaphor, dumbass." She grinned. "What I mean is that if my mercenary work hits a dry spell, I've got other ways to make a living."

"Such as…?"

A devious, contented smile graced Scarlet's lips. "If you want an example, I inked a deal with Elizabeth's Secret¹¹ last year. I'm one of their top models now."

Fox's eyes widened. "You know, I thought that was you I saw in one of those catalogues."

Scarlet raised her eyebrows twice. "Oh, going through your receptionist's mail, I see."

The vulpine's face turned blood red. "Don't judge me."

"Only if you treat me the same way."

"Well, that's basically impossible."

"Oops," Scarlet snickered. She crossed her arms and looked away with her head raised. "I'm judging you so hard right now."

Still blushing like a madman, Fox looked away from his red acquaintance and said, "I can't do things like _that,_ though. My whole company was founded on the idea of a small task force. It's hard to call one guy and his nerdy mechanic a 'task force'."

"Well, I'll tell you what," said Scarlet. "I have to report to General Pepper now that we're done in Aquas. I'm going to ask Slippy what he knows, and when I talk to Pepper, I'll see if there's anything else you might be able to help with." Her face lit up in a smile again. "That is, if you can handle spending a bit more quality time with your favorite red vixen."

Fox rolled his eyes. "I think I can tolerate a bit more of you. But only just a little."

Scarlet adopted a faux frown. "Aw, come on, Foxie. Don't be such a tool."

"Hey, you did it to yourself. If you hadn't helped my dad try to sabotage my marriage proposal last year, I'd be much more open to you."

The vixen's faux frown became real. She crossed both her legs and arms, assuming a defensive position. "Okay—I'll freaking admit it. I didn't like Fara. At all. Your dad wasn't really big on her, either. Go ahead—hate me for what I did. We were just trying to prove a point to you and have a bit of fun while doing it."

Fox's ears shot up. "That was _to prove a point?_ What kind of point was that?"

"That your girlfriend had absolutely no chill and would ditch you at the drop of a hat if you didn't do everything her way. You can rag on me all you want, but I do have one huge perk—I won't ever try to force you to be anything you're not." She went on the offensive and pointed a finger at Fox. "You can't deny it—she flew off the handle every time you deviated from what she wanted from you. You were so whipped in that relationship, and that is _not_ the Fox I know." Leaning back in her seat, she added, "So go ahead—hate me because I was trying to spare you from a nasty public divorce with someone who would have been able to blackmail you into oblivion."

Fox sat in stunned silence for a moment, but his composure returned in short order. "Scarlet, I think any woman other than you would have reacted the exact same way that Fara did when you pulled those ridiculous stunts."

"I disagree," said Scarlet. "If you two were fully committed and really trusted each other, those gags of mine would have done nothing more than annoy you a little bit.

An unhappy blush crossed Fox's face. "You're full of it. Okay, so you might have a tiny bit of a point here: Fara overreacted at the theater. Still, the hot tub and the Christmas present¹² took things way too far. No one would have been expected to keep their cool if they had to deal with _that."_

"It's obvious she didn't trust you," Scarlet fired back.

"That's because you put me into a compromising situation."

"Right. But really, think about it, Fox—if she _fully_ trusted you, she would have recognized that I was just toying with you."

"Scarlet, even _I_ didn't recognize that."

The vixen breathed out a long sigh. Her brash, confident voice dropped to a gentle murmur. "Fine. You're right. What I did was uncalled for. I'm sorry. Fara proved me wrong anyway when she stuck with you after those shenanigans. I just couldn't…"

"…Couldn't _what?"_

"Nothing. It's nothing," Scarlet replied, anxiety lacing her voice. "I'm going to talk to Slippy."

As she stood up from her seat and walked through the cabin partition into the back part of the plane, Fox shook his head and turned his attention back to reading the _Great Fox's_ instrument cluster.

At the same time, Scarlet's unfinished sentence lingered in her mind.

" _I just couldn't stand to lose my chance at you."_

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 It was originally just called "Escape," but that was lame.

2 Fox has seen Scarlet in the nude twice before this. The first time was part of an "incident" during Fox and Scarlet's teenage years that they prefer not to talk about; and the second time was during Fox's miserable Christmas experience from the previous year that he's still angry about.

3 The coat belongs to the Supreme Commander of Ichtos from _The Iridium Chronicle_. Although not mentioned, the Supreme Commander exists in this universe and was recently forced out of power in his third world dictatorship. He also may or may not be the illegitimate son of the notoriously-philandering James McCloud.

4 During the time of writing, my SUV had a bad starter that would occasionally grind instead of turning the engine over. It eventually got so bad that it—and about nine other difficult-to-repair mechanical and electrical problems including the complete failure of the electrical system—compelled me to sell it.

5 In _The Iridium Chronicle_ , Silvia eventually fell in love with the Supreme Commander of Ichtos and later unofficially married him. A legally binding ceremony was impossible due to his wanted status.

6 I'd be remiss if I didn't admit that stealing an airport stair car was totally inspired by one particular scene near the end of _Liar Liar_ , starring Jim Carrey.

7 The _Sierra Foxtrot Great Fox_ is an Antonov An-225.

8 I guess they probably could have shot the tires if they wanted to.

9 Fun fact: Apart from Sauria, Zoness is the only Lylatian "planet" that is not visited in _Sierra Foxtrot_. Well, that's not entirely true—one of the side characters visits Zoness off-screen.

10 West Fortuna, obviously.

11 This shouldn't need an explanation. It's a female-centric lingerie chain based in Eladard.

12 This is a reference to _The Sierra Foxtrot War on Christmas_ , a short story I co-wrote with fanfiction author Elarix. s/11679909/1/The-Sierra-Foxtrot-War-on-Christmas


	5. The Truth Speaks

**Arc II: Darker Matters¹**

 _Part 1: The Truth Speaks_

 _Chapter 4²_

Alone in the _Great Fox's_ cargo hold with her laptop opened on a metal table near the stairs to the upper level, Scarlet sat back in her chair and opened a video conferencing app. A moment later, her computer screen loaded, revealing General Pepper sitting in his boardroom.

 _"Good afternoon, Miss Scarlet," Pepper spoke. "Do you have something to report?"_

"Yes, General," Scarlet replied. "I got the informant out of Aquas and finally got him to talk."

" _Excellent. What did he tell you?"_

Giving her muzzle a quick scratch, Scarlet replied, "I don't know what to think of what he said. He told me Macbeth is developing experimental weapons with the help of someone named 'Dr. Andross Bowman'. The East Fortunan rebels used an EMP weapon in Northpoint, and it was one of these weapons—or so he said. I don't know anything about this 'Dr. Bowman'. Do you? Is that classified?"

Pepper's face contorted into a stone-faced stare that unnerved Scarlet.

 _"Dr. Bowman died fifteen years ago,"_ General Pepper explained, his voice full of concern. _"He had been one of the Cornerian military's top researchers until an investigation into his affairs pulled up some, shall we say, unpleasant details. The findings were considered dangerous enough for him to be jailed. We would have been content to leave him in prison for life, but he somehow managed to escape. The police eventually captured him again; and this time, we made sure that he would be eliminated for good. But if what the informant said is true, it looks like that failed as well."_

Scarlet's eyes narrowed. "What was he doing that got him thrown in jail, anyway? And how did killing him fail? Was the electric chair not working that day?"

 _"It's a disheartening story, to say the least,"_ Pepper replied. _"Without us knowing, he had been conducting inhumane physical and psychological experiments on non-natives that he captured and imprisoned. Intelligence believes that he was trying to create 'living weapons³' through genetic engineering. When authorities raided Dr. Bowman's lab, the investigators found ten people in atrocious living conditions. Six of them had no chance of survival. It was sickening. Out of the four that survived, only one of them managed to regain his sanity. Two of them were practically vegetables, and the one other person escaped when she⁴ was discovered."_

"Shouldn't someone have seen this coming?"

Pepper shook his head in frustration. _"Up until that point, Dr. Bowman was widely trusted, even though his actions had always been eccentric. The discovery of the genetically modified prisoners, along with the evidence of his hand in prototyping a series of experimental chemical and genetic weapons, turned his comrades' favor against him. When his plans were discovered, he was thrown in prison. Many called for his execution – especially after his escape – but due to restrictions on the death penalty at the time, a different alternative was proposed."_

"What was that?" Scarlet asked.

 _"Exile to Venom – the remote wasteland east of Titania, where there is no food, no water, no shelter, and no chance of survival. Yet, it appears that even Venom was not enough to kill him."_

"…Unless he was rescued," Scarlet suggested. "There's nothing that would have stopped that from happening, right?"

 _"The weather in northern Venom is usually violent and prohibitive towards aircraft, but it is possible. However, the only way he could have possibly been extracted is if his rescuers had been aware of his location beforehand. Now though, we have to face the consequences of Dr. Bowman being alive. I have no idea what to expect from him or Macbeth. If the informant is correct – and I believe that he is – the Macbeth military is supplying prototype weapons to the East Fortuna rebels. I'm grateful that you've brought this to my attention."_

Scarlet lowered her head in gratitude. "Thank you, General."

" _Indeed. Although, now I have deep concerns about our military endeavors in Fortuna."_

"Why is that?" Scarlet's ears perked up.

 _"The rebels know that if they want to assert full control over the region, they'll have to beat us back before it becomes a war of attrition. Since the allied forces outnumber theirs three to two, time is not on their side. What concerns me are these weapons they're getting from Macbeth. If Dr. Bowman is responsible for their development, who knows what to expect from them? You never know what a cornered beast will do."_

Scarlet returned a subtle nod. "The informant also told me that the reason he knows about Dr. Bowman and the weapons is because his old company—Anthracite Security—was hired to put them in the hands of the EFR armed forces. Sadly, he doesn't know what kind of weapons they were, although he thinks the EMP cannon that the rebels used at Northpoint was one of them."

Pepper frowned, leaning forward in his seat. _"This uprising in East Fortuna is nothing more than a proxy that the Macbeth military is using to attack us without forcing themselves to get involved. It infuriates me – it's only a matter of time before our representatives threaten legal action against Macbeth for supplying weapons to the EFR forces; but it won't do a thing to stop them. The only way to make Macbeth pay for their actions is to crush the East Fortuna uprising and restore the power to where it belongs. War with Macbeth itself would be catastrophic even if we won, and they know that. It's how they're able to play this twisted game – betting that we won't take the bait and attack them."_

"Ugh—geopolitics make me sick," Scarlet groaned. "Anyway, thanks for the job opportunity. I'm glad we both got what we wanted." She paused, then tilted her head slightly. "General, I've got something to ask."

" _What is it, Miss Scarlet?"_

"It's about a friend—someone you know. I'm actually using his cargo plane right now."

Pepper stared a metaphorical hole through his computer screen.

"It's Fox McCloud," Scarlet explained. "He's trying to find work. Do you have anything that you could give to him?"

Pepper sighed. _"It doesn't work that way in the military, Miss Scarlet. I can't simply create tasks for independent mercenaries, you know. I have to maintain some semblance of protocol."_ The corner of his mouth contorted into a faint grin. _"…Although, if he's interested, any information he can provide about Anthracite Security's smuggling operation would be handsomely rewarded."_

Scarlet smiled back. "I'll let him know. Thanks, General."

The old hound dog tipped his red cap. _"It is a pleasure as always. Pepper out!"_

In seconds, the video conference ended, and Scarlet's screen went blank. Letting out a relieved sigh, she reclined back in her seat and closed her eyes in relaxation. Then, she folded her computer and stuffed it back into her backpack, which rested against a table leg.

Meanwhile, in the cockpit, Fox sat in the pilot's seat with his own computer opened. With Scarlet and Slippy out of the picture for the moment, he opened his mobile web browser and typed in the extension for the website of a particular blue vixen.

 _'web . krystalmodel . ele.'⁵_

Part of him felt guilty for opening the web search, but his curiosity and interest in the blue vixen from the hotel in Aquas overpowered his misgivings. In seconds, the link loaded, revealing Krystal's home page, which displayed a grayscale picture of the blue vixen wearing a sheer gown and sitting on a stone wall while dipping her toes in a creek that flowed beneath it. Fox looked over the numerous tabs to the left of the picture, which read, "About Me," "Samples," "Commissions," "Contact Me," and "FAQ."

Recalling Krystal's suggestion to him back at the hotel, he clicked on "Samples" and immediately leaned closer to the screen. Likely due to her desire to persuade her website viewers to pay her for her work, the page only showed two samples. Nevertheless, Fox had no complaints about either of them⁶.

The first picture showed Krystal sitting on a beach as the tide washed in around her. She wore a yellow bikini in the picture, and the faint smile on her face suggested that she had genuinely enjoyed her time at the beach while taking the photo. After viewing the picture, Fox found himself smiling as well. That is, until he scrolled down and saw the picture below it. As he laid eyes on Krystal's second sample, the tips of his ears started burning.

The second picture featured the blue vixen sitting with her body turned to the side and her head tilted towards the camera. The background appeared to have been edited out in favor of a depthless purple backdrop that caused Krystal's blue fur to light up by comparison. A faint glow radiated from her fur, but Fox missed the accent lighting at first glance due to Krystal's outfit – or rather, her lack of one. She sat with her right leg pulled to her chest and her left arm resting on her other leg in a way that partially covered her breasts, albeit in a way that showcased as much of her fur as possible without being salacious. For reasons that Fox could not understand, she also wore a set of blue headphones. The accessory looked out of place, but it seemed to add an intangible quality to the picture.

Then, Fox's eyes wandered to Krystal's smiling face, and then to her one closed eye that called to mind the way that she winked at him in the Aquas hotel. He moved closer to the computer screen and tried to burn the picture into his memory. The combination of its every element made him want to reach out and touch the vixen. As he fell into a blue and white trance, he imagined himself caressing Krystal while melting into her angelic smile that he thought could have seduced any man.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence inside the cockpit.

"Busted."

Fox yelped, finding himself forced back into reality without being prepared for it. He tried to regain his composure, almost dropping his computer in the process. He craned his head to his right and looked up, only to come face to face with Scarlet.

"Wow, you are ridiculous, Fox," she giggled. "Seriously? You had to look her up?"

Fox frowned while trying to hide his embarrassment. "She's beautiful. You can't blame me for wanting to look at her."

"Sure… Your motives were just as pure as driven snow," Scarlet retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, you're the one to say that, Miss Fetish. If I recall, it isn't Krystal who has three videos posted on YiffHub."

Scarlet smirked. "And how would you know that?"

A furious blush crossed Fox's face, prompting a chuckle from the vixen.

"No shame in showing off, I say," said Scarlet. "Anyone can look, but only a select few can have my heart." She licked her lips before her expression normalized. "Anyway, I have a feeling your enterprise has restrictions on looking up porn on company computers, so hand it over." She pointed to his laptop.

"It's not porn – it's artistic!" Fox snapped, slamming the computer shut and pushing himself to his feet.

In response, Scarlet bent over and wheezed in a mocking display of uproarious laughter. After a few seconds, she caught her breath and replied, "Wow. Denial much?"

"I'm not in denial," Fox growled. "Why are you giving me such a hard time about Krystal? It's just a few pictures that aren't even dirty. As I said at the hotel, I'm not trying to start something with her. I'm in no position for it."

"I just don't like you looking at her, okay?" Scarlet replied, placing her hands on her hips.

Fox looked to the side, then returned his eyes to Scarlet. "Fine. I just wanted to see some of her work. Don't get so defensive over something that isn't yours," he said, referring to himself.

Scarlet's face morphed into a disappointed scowl. "Fine. Are we going to be landing soon?"

"We're thirty minutes out," Fox replied. "Did Pepper tell you anything that I might want to know?"

"Well," said Scarlet, looking out the right side of the plane's cockpit, "He told me that if you could give him some info on Anthracite Security's smuggling operation for the East Fortunan rebellion, he'd be willing to pay you for it."

Fox returned a surprised expression. "Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Definitely."

Scarlet sneered. "Well, screw you. I'm telling the truth this time. If you want to do some snooping around, I'll be more than happy to help you out—as long as I get a bit of the cut." Her eyes lit up and appeared to sparkle.

Fox let out a deep breath. "Sure. You can tag along. I'm not even sure where to start, though."

Placing a finger on her muzzle, Scarlet suggested, "You should talk to Slippy about that. He's a wealth of knowledge on Anthracite's dealings."

"Sounds like a good idea," replied Fox. "The one thing I know about Anthracite is that it's Wolf O'Donnell's business. Sad—he used to be a friend of mine. We're not on good terms anymore. He hates my guts and tried to attack my staff and sabotage my equipment in the past."

"Some friend," Scarlet commented. "I don't think he'll be liking you any more after we're done in Katina."

Fox shook his head. "I seriously doubt it."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 This is the part of the story where I started experimenting with humorous elements. Before this point, it was strictly an action story set on an AU planet Lylat in the year 2025.

2 Holy nutballs, this chapter is short.

3 This was originally "perfect species," but that didn't match up with the nature of the project as it was expounded upon later.

4 This is gender-specific for a reason. That's all I'm going to say.

5 Thanks for farking with my formatting, fanfiction DOT net.

6 The two pictures Fox views are references to actual fan art done by DeviantArt user Falvie. The first is called "As Waves Reach The Shore," and the second is simply titled "Krystal."


	6. The Lotus Eater

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 2: The Lotus Eater_

 _Chapter 5_

As he, Scarlet, and Slippy stepped through the front doors of the Golstave regional airport in southern Katina, Fox had the feeling that he would be seeing more airports than he wanted to in the near future. Thanks to the change in times zones, the digital smartwatch on his wrist indicated a time of 1:32 PM, which would provide him and his two traveling companions with at least half of the day to draw up their plans for investigating Anthracite Security. Of the three, Slippy seemed the most eager to move forward with the admittedly vague option that General Pepper had provided them with. He said nothing about it, but Fox had the feeling that he would have preferred no one to know that he had ever been part of Anthracite to begin with.

The surroundings outside the airport reminded Fox of Golstave's position just below the planet's equator. The city itself stood in the middle of a sizeable river delta region close to the Central Ocean, and the punishing heat and sweltering humidity caused both Fox and Scarlet to sweat.¹ On the other hand, Slippy relished the weather. The architecture surrounding the airport constituted a bizarre mix of modern buildings erected alongside – and sometimes overtop of – older stone structures. Like in Aquas, numerous palm trees rustled in the humid breeze, although the atmosphere in Golstave hinted at the city's financial heartbeat as opposed to Aquas's tourist-based infrastructure.²

Knowing that their stay in Katina would likely be more protracted than their tenure in Aquas, Fox arranged for a rental car upon arriving, although he had no idea where the three of them would lodge. Scarlet assured him that she knew of a good place where their personal information would be less vulnerable than it was on Aquas, but Fox still hesitated to trust her.

While they approached the line of rental cars inside the covered parking garage, Fox glanced at Scarlet and said, "I like the idea of making money, but I don't have any leads on Anthracite apart from Slippy. He knows where their facilities are, but that's not much good if we can't find out what's inside. The important thing is that we find out what kind of weapons Macbeth is sending to the East Fortuna Rebels. Got any ideas? You used to work around here, so you obviously know more about this place than I do."

Scarlet pulled the rental car keys out of her catsuit's waist pocket and pressed the unlock button, causing the lights on a black sedan near the back of the parking garage to flash. "There's a team that I ran into a few times while I was working in this area. They're intel specialists, and they seem to have details on nearly major mercenary operation on the planet. In fact, I heard that several big PMC's have been going to extreme lengths to make sure that their files aren't pilfered by them."

"I hope they haven't been going through mine," Fox grumbled. "Do you think this team can help us?"

"If we're willing to split the earnings if it goes somewhere, maybe," Scarlet answered. "The problem is that these guys never show up when you want them to. They might as well not exist at all under normal circumstances. That, and I doubt they have any more information about Anthracite than Slippy does; and he's already told us almost everything he knows about them."

Fox nodded and opened the rental car's passenger side door while Scarlet climbed into the driver's seat, with Slippy taking the back for himself. "Let me go over that information again to make sure I got it – Anthracite's main base is located in a remote area outside the city near a large lake that powers their facility, and the base is large enough that it has its own landing strip inside the complex walls."

"Right," Slippy replied. "Part of the reason Macbeth is using Anthracite is because they have enough airplanes to function as a shipping company if they need to. The weapons are shipped from Macbeth to Anthracite using Anthracite's cargo planes, then after the cargo is processed, the same planes leave for their destination from the main base. The government of Macbeth set it up so it looks like Anthracite is supplying the rebels, but everyone knows the truth about it. From how I remember it, Anthracite actually purchases the weapons from Macbeth under the condition that Macbeth will compensate them for it after the weapons are delivered. Although it's obvious that Macbeth is orchestrating the whole thing, giving ownership of their weapons to Anthracite gives them a tiny bit of plausible deniability that they hope is enough to keep them out of international trouble."

While Scarlet started the car and pulled out of the parking garage, Fox looked over his shoulder into the back seat and suggested, "If we could somehow get into the base, we might be able to do something about those weapons, or at least find out what they are."

To Fox's surprise, Slippy shook his head. "It's not that simple, Fox. This isn't a video game. The entire base is equipped with specialized security equipment, and the weapons themselves are stored in a warehouse that can only be opened by the boss and his two officers. In other words, if you aren't one of them, you're not getting anywhere in that base."

Fox frowned, then narrowed his eyes. "You're pretty good with technology. Did you have a hand in designing the security systems, by any chance?"

"Well, yeah…but they're bound to have changed some things after they kicked me out," Slippy retorted. "I know what you're going to ask, Fox. You want to know if I can circumvent the systems somehow. The answer is…maybe. But there's a huge risk involved. At any rate, I don't think the three of us have a chance of getting into that base and accomplishing anything. And if we were able to get into the warehouse where the weapons are kept, what would we do then? It would be stupid to just start going through the containers; and if we destroyed them, we'd bring the whole base down with us or end up dead anyway."

For a moment, Fox looked away from Slippy and glanced out his window as Scarlet pulled onto a swarming interstate outside the airport. Then, he said, "I think the real goal here is to prevent more of these weapons from reaching the EFR forces. It would be good to know what it is we're dealing with, but if the weapons never get to Fortuna, they're not going to do a lot of good."

Scarlet glanced at Fox with her peripheral vision. "Sabotage might be a good option here. If the planes can't take off, the weapons can't make it to Fortuna."

"That could keep them from moving the weapons for a little while, but it's not a permanent solution. Really, the only way to stop this is to either cut the weapons off at the assembly line or hope that West Fortuna takes back their land," Slippy replied.

Fox scratched his head in thought. "Slippy, do you know where Anthracite takes the weapons after they leave the base?"

"I never found that out," Slippy answered. "Somehow, I doubt Anthracite is flying directly into East Fortuna. If that was the case, the Cornerian Navy would be moving into position to blockade Fortuna's east coast. Those planes wouldn't stand a chance. If I was the person responsible for making sure these weapons made it into the rebels' hands, I would send the planes to a place where no one would bother to look for them, and then I'd have the weapons shipped into Fortuna from there."

"You might be on to something," Scarlet suggested. "Instead of trying to get into the warehouse where the weapons are kept, maybe we should try to find where they're being shipped before they make it to Fortuna. If we can find the delivery point, it might allow us – or the West Fortunan Army, probably – to put a stop to the weapons trafficking."

Fox looked over his shoulder at Slippy. "Sounds like something you'd be good at."

"I might be able to figure something out," he replied. "It'll probably take a few days before I can tell you what needs to happen, though. That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

Scarlet gave Fox a playful look. "Not for me. I'm sure Fox and I will find plenty of things to keep us occupied while you look into it."

In response, Fox shook his head and muttered, "You make everything sound dirty."

"No, you just take everything I say out of context," Scarlet grinned.

"I'm not so sure about that."

 _"They are hopelessly in love,"_ Slippy thought.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After a thirty minute drive to the north part of the city, Scarlet pulled the rental car into the parking lot in front of a sprawling motel complex that looked somewhat suspicious to Fox's eyes. Three buildings with three floors each made up the establishment, built on twenty acres of land just off an avenue that featured seemingly innumerable casinos, lounges, and strip clubs. The buildings' stone fascia attempted to present an upscale appearance, but Fox felt that something was not right.

Parking the car, Scarlet announced, "This is it – the Lotus Eater Motel. In other words, the perfect place for people like us to spend a few days without having to give out unnecessary personal information. All you need here is a name – even if it's not your actual name – and a phone number. I gave them my mom's old fax the last time I stayed here. They never call anyone unless it's the end of the world – and that hasn't happened yet.

Fox cocked his head and glared at the building in front of them with a wary eye. "Who stays at a place like this? Besides us."

Scarlet returned a devious grin. "This place was built to take advantage of the local nightlife. It's not in the brochure, but it was more or less intended to be the ideal place to have a one night stand. Don't let that turn you off, though. It's actually a nice place."

"The sheets had better be clean," Fox grumbled.

Scarlet gave him a dismissive wave. "They're clean enough. Seriously – this place would lose its spot as the number one motel in the area if it didn't keep up a decent image."

If being the number one motel to have a one night stand in gives it a decent image, then something is seriously wrong."

"Oh, lighten up Fox – don't be such a prude," the vixen chided, glancing over her shoulder at Slippy, who shook his head and sighed. "Come on – let's get our rooms. They're all small and only have one bed each, so we'll all have to get our own unless you're feeling adventurous and want to snuggle up to me. Or, you could share a bed with Frog-Boy, although I'm not sure that he's actually a guy."

Slippy's eyes bulged out in rage. "Hey!"

"I think I'd prefer to have my own room," Fox replied, giving Scarlet a disapproving glance.

Disappointment laced Scarlet's voice. "Fine. Have it your way, then."

The three stepped into the motel lobby, built into the bottom floor of the main building in the three-structure complex. The interior lacked much of the charm of the hotel in Aqaus; and like the outside, Fox still felt that something was wrong about all of it. Walking up to the counter, Scarlet slapped her hands on the linoleum surface, startling the fragile-looking gray tabby woman behind the desk.

The feline's eyes flew open, but she calmed herself in time to ask, "C…Can I help you?"

"We all need our own rooms," Scarlet replied. "What do you have?"

The receptionist looked at the computer screen in front of her and sighed, "We're pretty booked up right now. We do have three rooms, but only two in this building. The other room is in the 'C' building, which um…" She paused, then looked around like Big Brother was watching her every movement. "Don't tell management, but the 'C' building is a dump."

Scarlet smirked at Fox. He knew exactly what she was thinking. With her most seductive voice, she purred, "Well Fox, looks like you have a few options here. You can either room with the hot vixen who has some…shall we say…'needs', you can stay with Nerd-Boy and be kept awake all night while he plays his MMO, or you can stay by your own lonely self in the crappy 'C' building. Your choice."

Slippy gave Scarlet a hateful glare, but nevertheless, he told Fox, "Honestly, this isn't a hard decision. Well, it could be a hard decision, depending on what you mean by 'hard'."

Fox's face assumed a deadpan expression. "You went there. I'm so proud of you, Slippy."

"Aw, thanks Fox," Slippy grinned.

Fox bit his lip. Then, he looked at the receptionist and muttered, "We'll take the two rooms in this building. Put it all under my name if you can."

"Alright, sir. What's your name and phone number?"

Fox stroked his muzzle, then replied, "John Fox. 7273-9968."³

The receptionist entered the information into her computer, then handed two room keys to Fox. "That should do it. Rooms are paid by the day. You can keep it indefinitely as long as you pay the 60 KAT room fee before noon for every day that you want to stay here."

"That's great," Fox replied, handing one of the key cards to Slippy and raising the other one to eye level.

Turning to Scarlet, he noted the number '213' on the card and said, "Looks like it's on the second floor. Slippy, what number is yours?"

"214. We're right next to each other. Don't make too much noise tonight – you'll distract me while I'm playing my MMO," Slippy chuckled, giving Scarlet the evil eye.

Scarlet's face lit up in a devious smile. "Roger that. I'll make sure to moan as loudly as possible."

Fox shook his head in exasperation, but part of him feared that she was only partially joking about having 'needs' that involved him. Although he disliked the idea of renting the room in the less desirable 'C' building, he wondered if he had made a poor choice by choosing to split a room with Scarlet. _"Well, I suppose I could sleep on the floor if the worst comes to the worst."_

After climbing the short flight of stairs to the second level, Fox, Scarlet, and Slippy arrived at their rooms. While readying his key card, Slippy said, "I'll get right to work trying to pull up as much as I can about Anthracite. Anything you can do to help me would be appreciated."

Fox nodded, and although he expected Scarlet to make a snide remark about Slippy and his methods, she merely replied, "Will do," perhaps showing that her commitment to their tentative goal overruled her innate desire to banter with her traveling companions. While Slippy disappeared into his room and closed the door, Fox opened room 213 and stepped inside. Dropping his two bags on the dresser that stood on the left side of the room, he took stock of the amenities that his home away from home featured. An outdated flatscreen television sat on the black dresser that looked like it had been pulled from a salvage yard, while a single queen-sized bed occupied most of the other side of the room. Fortunately for him, the room looked and smelled clean enough, although it was nowhere even close to luxury. The balcony at the back of the room looked over a parking lot with two large dumpsters, which caused him to wonder why the motel had even bothered to add balconies.

Setting her bags on the dresser next to Fox, Scarlet asked, "So, what are you doing?"

"I thought I'd try to find a gun shop and pick up some ammo for us since Customs wouldn't let us bring bullets with us. I hope we don't actually need ammo, but you never know, right?"

"It's always a good idea," Scarlet replied.

"What are you going to do while we wait for Slippy to pull up some information?"

Scarlet responded by facing Fox and pulling down on her catsuit's zipper until it reached the tops of her breasts. "I'm taking a bath. Care to join me?"

A flash of red appeared on Fox's face. Scratching the back of his neck, he replied, "As good as that sounds, I've got more important things to take care of."

"Fine. Suit yourself," said Scarlet, stepping into the bathroom and turning on both the light and the water for the bathtub.

Fox shook his head, swiped Scarlet's car keys off the dresser, and checked his pockets to make sure that he had his key card with him. Then, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, giving Slippy's adjacent door a quick glance before his thoughts returned to Scarlet. "She's something else. I can't think of anybody who would be that open about something like that – not even Fara after we got engaged. Either she's completely shameless, or she desperately wants me to love her. Or both."

He took a deep breath, then descended the stairs to the ground floor and walked out of the hotel to the parking lot, where the black rental car awaited him. Sliding into the driver's seat and turning on the ignition, he pulled out of the parking lot and began his search for a place that sold ammunition. He knew about Katina's relatively relaxed gun laws and anticipated little difficulty in finding 9mm bullets for the handguns that he and Scarlet used. Still, the area around him resisted him in his search, forcing him to drive into the city's less crowded West district, where he located a small, hole-in-the-wall gun shop with metal bars over the windows and a dull neon 'OPEN' sign above the door.

The parking lot in front of the shopping center that contained that gun shop was filled with over a hundred vehicles, but he managed to locate two open spots relatively close to the shop itself. He parked the rental car in one of them, then reached for the car door. But, as soon as his fingers touched the chrome-covered plastic handle, his phone chirped. Digging into his pocket with his free hand, he extracted it and glanced at the screen. _"Slippy? He's found something already?"_

He pressed the green 'answer' button on his screen and put the phone up to his ear. "Slippy? What is it?"

He expected to hear triumph in Slippy's voice, but the grim, frightened concern that echoed through his phone's speakers put his initial assumption to rest immediately. _"Fox – Scarlet's missing. Something is seriously wrong here."_

Fox's heart skipped a beat. "What? How do you know? What happened?"

 _"Well, I was listening to my hacking setlist through my headphones when I heard a thump and a scream through the wall behind me. At first, I thought it was just part of the dubstep song I had on at the time,⁴ but then I got suspicious and rewound the song to make sure I wasn't just hearing things. Well, when I listened to it again, I didn't hear any screaming. That's when I realized something was wrong and tried to get into your room. The door was locked, so I called for both of you and didn't hear anything. Where are you, anyway?"_

"In front of a gun shop twenty minutes from the hotel," Fox replied. "Are you sure Scarlet didn't accidentally knock herself out or something? It wouldn't be out of character for her to do that."

 _"No, Fox, I'm positive that she's gone. When you didn't answer your door, I went back to my room to look for something to cheat the lock. I got into your room after five minutes and didn't find Scarlet inside."_

"Did you check the bathroom?" Fox asked, uncertainty in his voice.

 _"That's the craziest part,"_ Slippy explained. _"The bathtub was full of water, Scarlet's clothes were next to it, and there were water spots all over the carpet in the bedroom area. It doesn't make any sense. Everything else you had in the room was still there – your suitcase, your computer bag, Scarlet's room key…I don't get it. You need to get back here as soon as possible. Didn't Scarlet say something about her having some enemies in Katina?"_

"Are you suggesting that she was kidnapped?"

 _"What else could it be, Fox? This is crazy! Get back here!"_

Fox struggled to remain calm in the face of his growing fears over Scarlet's safety. "Okay, okay. Let me pick up a few mags first, and then I'll come back to the hotel. If anything even remotely suspicious happens before I get there, call me immediately."

 _"Will do, Fox."_

As he ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, Fox felt a pit forming in his stomach. As much as he feared for Scarlet, he held an even greater fear of what would have happened if he had stayed in the room with her. Walking up to the gun shop's front door, he wondered, _"If Scarlet was kidnapped, someone had to know where we were staying. But how? We had only been in the motel for ten minutes! If someone was following us the whole time, I'm sure I would have seen it. And why did Slippy get off scot-free? If whoever took her was following us, why didn't they go after him, too?"_

 _"I'd better tell Slippy that I'm not coming back to the hotel. It's too dangerous."_

His ears picked up the sound of a vehicle behind him. Turning his head to look for the source of the noise, he watched a black, late-model van pull into the parking space next to his car. Then, he stepped into the gun shop and approached the counter, where he asked for a tackle box-sized metal case filled with handgun ammunition. Feeling concerned that someone may have been tracking him, he pulled out his wallet and sorted through his paper currency before handing several one hundred credit notes to the cashier at the counter.

For obvious weight reasons, the ammo crate refused to cooperate with the store's plastic bags, forcing Fox to wave off the cashier and simply carry it out under his arm even though he knew how suspicious it looked. His feet neared the exit door, but then his phone chirped again. Setting the crate on the floor, he fished his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Slippy again.

Frustrated and afraid for Scarlet's sake, he raised the phone to his lips and barked, "What is it, Slippy?"

 _"F…Fox – they're trying to get into my room! I don't have anything to defend myself with! What am I supposed to…oh no! They forced the door! Heeeeeelp!"_

After that point, Slippy's voice cut out; and through the phone line, Fox heard what he thought sounded like Slippy's phone hitting the ground. However, the call remained active, allowing him to overhear Slippy's panicked shouting, which came to an abrupt halt mere seconds later. Cupping the phone in his hand and holding it as close to his ear as possible, Fox heard quiet footfalls approaching Slippy's phone, followed by a raspy voice that said, _"Hold still and come with me, and I won't hurt you."_

Fox opened his mouth to yell at Slippy's aggressor, but the call ended before he could say anything. Locked in disbelief, he pulled his phone away from his ear and stared at the display, which had already returned to the home screen. Multiple expletives spewed from his lips as he shoved the exit door open and stomped towards his rental car. By this point, he could have cared less about what anyone else thought of him carrying a green metal tub of ammunition through the parking lot.

He walked around the back of the black van parked next to his car and reached into his pocket, feeling around for his car keys while his left arm struggled to hold onto the heavy ammo crate. The numerous contents inside his pocket prevented him from gripping the keys; and in a fit of rage, he ripped his hand out of the pocket and sent the keys, his wallet, and a few loose bills flying. He cursed again and set the ammo crate on the pavement next to his car, then scanned the nearby pavement for the keys and his wallet. Much to his relief, the two items came to rest next to the front wheel well. He bent down to pick up his valuables, then finally managed to press the button to unlock his car. Turning around to retrieve his ammo, he came face to face with a husky wearing black BDUs. With his keys and wallet still held his hands, he stood no chance against the canine, who brandished a Taser and fired it at him from point blank range.

The searing jolt of electricity sent Fox's muscles into a spasm, and he fell to the ground in a twitching heap. His mind swam, the pain from the electric shock preventing him from thinking clearly as he felt himself being hefted off the ground.

With his target secured, the black-garbed husky opened the van's sliding side door and tossed Fox inside. Then, he slammed it shut and collected Fox's valuables, starting with his keys and wallet and finally the ammo crate near the back of Fox's rental car.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 In real life, foxes can't sweat. This was pointed out by Nail Strafer in the initial version of _Sierra Foxtrot_ , but I changed that anatomical detail this time around. And no, I will never let him live that down!

2 This particular area of Katina is vaguely reminiscent of a Mediterranean nation, albeit with much hotter temperatures. Golstave itself could be considered somewhat similar to Las Vegas, Nevada.

3 SCRE-WYOU.

4 _First of the Year (Equinox)_ by Skrillex, of course. And no—dubstep (or should I say "brostep") was not the "in" thing during the time the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ was being written. It was just as dead of a fad back then.


	7. Black as Onyx

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 3: Black as Onyx_

 _Chapter 6_

For thirty minutes, all Fox felt were the cuffs around his hands, the black cloth over his head, and traces of the electric shock from earlier. The van's suspension vibrated beneath him, occasionally jolting his ribs as he lay on the floor behind the front seat. He focused his ears on the driver, but heard nothing from him or the person in the passenger seat, if there was such a person. For all he knew, the husky could have been the only individual in the van apart from him.

Then, the van slowed and turned off the road. The vehicle came to a complete stop a moment later; and as the driver shifted the van into park, Fox heard the sound of a garage door closing behind him. The side door slid open, and he felt a pair of furry hands reaching for the cloth that covered his head. Removing the blindfold, his captor pulled him out of the van and allowed him a few seconds to catch his balance. Fox wanted nothing more than to punish the husky for kidnapping him, but the cuffs around his wrist prevented him from acting on his desires. Still, he did consider fighting him with both of his hands literally tied behind his back.

Instead, he focused his eyes on his surroundings, which amounted to a dark, run-down complex that looked like it had been part of an automobile manufacturing facility at one point. Tens of lifeless, dust-covered machines lined rusted rails that had not moved in two decades. Flickering fluorescent bars cast a dismal amount of light into the otherwise black space that smelled of filthy water and oil. Every few seconds, water would drip from the ceiling, falling into a bucket on the floor below with a faint splash.

"What is this place?" Fox growled, locking eyes with the husky.

"Our hideout for now," the canine replied. "We never keep the same address for more than a week."

Having assumed that one of Anthracite's agents had abducted him, Fox took a step back in surprise and asked, "Who are you with?"

"If you were expecting me to be part of a massive operation, you'd be wrong. It's just me and my friend. We call ourselves Onyx – not to be confused with Anthracite, since both of them are synonyms for 'black'. This place seems to fit our title."

Fox glanced at one of the machines on the assembly line. "Why did you bring me here? Why shoot me with a Taser and throw me into a van if you're not with Anthracite?"

The husky held up two fingers less than two millimeters away from each other. "It's because Anthracite was _this_ close to nabbing you, and we weren't about to let that happen. You see, your success is our priority for right now."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "Say what?"

"We've been keeping tabs on you since the Northpoint incident. Your interest in Anthracite's dealings with the East Fortunan rebels managed to attract the attention of the Mac-Central intelligence agency, and in the process, it allowed us to gather some information on an East Fortunan spy who's working alongside them."

"Just one of them? Is he that important?"

"Actually, it's a 'she'," the husky corrected. "She goes by the code name 'Cassandra', and she's believed to have unusual abilities that would make her an enormous asset to any group that she was a part of. You managed to get her attention by rescuing your amphibious friend from Aquas, and we think that she may be after you even now."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said Anthracite was after me. Why is this spy from East Fortuna trying to hunt me down too?"

"Simple. Anthracite and the East Fortunan resistance—via Macbeth—are cooperating on East Fortuna's weapons trafficking operation. Any information Cassandra gathers on Anthracite's interests gets shared to all three parties by default. We believe that's how Anthracite managed to locate you in the first place."

"But how could they track me that perfectly after I'd only been in Golstave for thirty minutes?"

The canine opened his hand and turned it towards Fox. "Well, let me ask you this – did you give out any sensitive personal information over the phone or the internet to someone you didn't know? Have you visited any suspicious websites recently?"

Krystal's suggestive photographs crept back into his mind, even though he found nothing inherently suspicious about her website. "Maybe?" he replied, scratching his head. "I met a model in Aquas who suggested I look up her website, and I did that later. Other than that, I can't think of anything that could have possibly compromised my information. I keep that on a tight leash."

"Perhaps not tightly enough," the husky implied. "Anthracite broke into your room like they were absolutely certain that you were inside. It sounds to me like someone managed to access your computer's GPS location, which makes me almost positive that the website you visited was bugged by someone with ties to either Macbeth, East Fortuna, or Anthracite – possibly all three. If you don't mind me asking, what did this model you met in Aquas look like?"

Crossing his arms, Fox described Krystal's appearance. "She had blue and white fur. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Very unusual. She was about my height, wore a purple dress, and had a really thick tail. Oh, and she also spoke with an accent – kind of like a Zoness accent, but not quite as thick."

The husky nodded. "I'll make a note of all that. Interestingly, we're already on the trail of someone who looks like what you described. It's only a matter of time before we catch up with her."

In response, Fox blurted out, "Please, don't hurt her," then felt shocked that he had responded that way.

His captor's eyes widened. "You know, there's a high percentage chance that she _is_ Cassandra. I wouldn't put it past her to have been responsible for killing your team at Northpoint, at least in part. Don't let a person's looks deceive you. They can be sweet on the outside and even make you feel loved, and then turn and ram a knife into your back when you're not looking."

"You've got a point," Fox admitted. "What do you plan to do if you catch this 'Cassandra' person?"

"Use her to get more information on her superiors. Chances are that Cassandra is a low-level spy, but I guarantee she knows some of the higher-ups in the Macbeth network. If we can get closer to them, we'll be that much closer to our ultimate goal."

"Which is?" Fox asked.

"A former Cornerian scientist named Andross Bowman. The guy is inscrutable. Nothing about him ever gets out. We know he's doing something for Macbeth, but no one seems to know exactly what."

Fox locked eyes with the husky and told him, "He's developing weapons for them."

The Onyx soldier gave Fox a surprised stare. "You know about that?"

"My teammate told me," Fox replied.

"That's great, but there's got to be more to it than just the weapons. At heart, Andross is a biologist. He's got experience in engineering and chemistry, but life sciences were always his thing. And that's why I'm almost wondering if his work in developing weapons for the Macbeth military is just a cover for what he's really up to. But no one seems to know about it."

Fox recalled General Pepper telling him something about Andross attempting to create 'living weapons', but he felt that the hound dog would have preferred him to keep that knowledge to himself, especially since he had few reasons to trust the man from a unit that he had been completely unaware of until a minute ago. Somewhat disingenuously, he replied, "Well, if I find anything else about him, I'll let you know."

"Hmm. I'm sure you will," the canine smirked, knowing that Fox had no intention of doing that.

The silence inside the abandoned factory came to an end as a garage door opened. Turning his head towards the area where the husky had parked the black van, Fox watched as an identical vehicle pulled into the space next to it. After the engine came to a halt, a single black-furred jackal climbed out of the two front seats and opened the sliding back door. Fox raised a curious eyebrow at his appearance. In addition to his jet black base coat, thick black outlines stood out on his otherwise blue face, creating a form of mask that ran around his eyes and down the bridge of his nose.¹ He wore a black hoodie that covered his ears and his shoulder-length black hair. Below the waist, he wore a pair of black cargo shorts that revealed hints of blue fur above his knees. Shoes seemed to be something he had little interest in, judging from his calloused, bare feet.

The canine reached into the rear storage area; and Fox held his breath while waiting to see whom the other member of Onyx had abducted. As much as he liked Slippy, he admitted to himself that he hoped Scarlet would emerge from the van.

To his disappointment, it was Slippy.

The husky standing next to Fox stepped behind him and unlocked his handcuffs, then walked towards the second van and motioned for Fox to follow him. While the black and blue jackal set Slippy down and pulled the cloth from over his head, Fox asked the husky, "Did you get anyone else, like a red vixen? She was in my room before I left."

The husky stopped and shook his head. "Sorry, pal. If she was in there, Anthracite probably got to her first."

Fox bared his teeth. "What do you think they did with her?"

"It all depends. There are a few things that they might have done. They were after you, so if they broke into your room and didn't find you in it, they might have decided to take her instead."

"What does that mean for her?" Fox demanded.

"Well, I'd either expect them to put a ransom on her or just kill her outright. Or, if she's really good looking…well…"

Burning with anger and disgust, Fox snarled, "Oh, they'd better not… Then again, she might actually enjoy that."

The husky raised his eyebrows. "That sounds like someone I used to know. Was her name Scarlet, by any chance?"

Fox's face lit up. "How do you know her?"

In response, the canine gave him a nervous grin. "I'll tell you about it later, but for right now, head over to that table and meet my friend. We've got some things to discuss with you and your teammate."

Fox followed his captor to a rusting metal lunch table in the corner of the garage area. The sole other member of Onyx seated himself next to Slippy with his back to the cinder block wall, leaving the other bench for Fox and the husky.

"I apologize for how you got here. I would have preferred just asking you to come with us, but I had the feeling you'd ask too many questions or put up resistance," said the husky. "I'm Hartmann, the leader of this team." He pointed to the jackal next to Slippy and explained, "He's Lucas²—the best spy and digital expert I know. Together, we exist to keep a watchful eye on mercenary activities throughout the planet Lylat."

Fox turned his head and asked Hartmann, "Are you part of an NGO, or are you with an intelligence group?"

"There's not a clear answer for that. The best way I can explain it is this – we sell secrets, specifically ones related to the many PMCs that operate in the planet's more 'turbulent' areas. Keeping tabs on mercenary operations allows us to subliminally influence world affairs, since most PMCs are contracted by governments. Sometimes our work leads us into the employment of smaller Third World dictatorships like Ichtos,³ and other times we sell our information to the superpowers. Everything we do is based on our own concept of justice – we rarely sell out to the highest bidder. We like to think it's for the better.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "Our history of being willing to work for pretty much anybody we want to has put us into a dangerous spot. When a government intelligence agency that we just worked with finds out that we sold one of their contacts' information to their enemies, things can get deadly. That's why we never keep the same base of operations for more than a week. We're nomads, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

Fox nodded in the most insincere way possible and commented, "I feel so safe right now."

Hartmann frowned. "You should. We've been doing this for seven years, and we haven't been caught yet."

From across the table, the jackal muttered, "Boss, can you get on with the real reason we're here?"

"Sorry, Lucas. He asked me, so I had to explain," Hartmann answered, waving his comrade off. "Anyway, part of the reason we abducted both of you was not only to save you from Anthracite, but also because your goals line up perfectly with ours. We believe the collusion between East Fortuna, Macbeth, and Anthracite is far more sinister than anyone originally thought, and it's reaching a boiling point. Here – take a look at this. Lucas, hand me your computer."

The jackal sitting across from him reached into a black bag on the ground and produced a white laptop, which he handed to Hartmann. Opening the screen, the husky turned the computer in Fox's direction and pointed at one corner of the grainy, black and white image on the display.

Fox's eyes widened. "A stash of chemical weapons?"

Nodding, Hartmann replied, "That photograph was taken from inside Anthracite Security's storehouse with one of the base's security cameras. Thanks to Lucas, we now have an idea of what they're shipping to East Fortuna. But the real question here is 'why'?"

He continued after a brief silence. "That's not the most important thing right now - the most important thing is that the East Fortunan forces may already have some of these weapons in their possession. But even if they do, they can't be allowed to get any more of them. The only problem is that we don't have enough evidence to prove the existence of the weapons to West Fortuna or Corneria. All we have is this grainy picture, and it's still kind of ambiguous as to what the weapons even are. It's likely that they are in fact chemical, but no one can know for sure until we have more leads. But we don't have the time for that."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Fox asked.

"We have to do one of two things. One – either we find a way to keep Anthracite's cargo planes from taking off and delivering the cargo, or two – we place a tracker on one of the planes to see where it goes. From all accounts, no one knows where they're delivering the weapons. The Cornerian Navy is patrolling the Eastern Ocean in hopes that they'll spot the cargo planes, but as far as I know, nothing's shown up yet. I have a strong suspicion that they're not delivering the weapons to Fortuna. The only three major landmasses that can be accessed from the western continent are Fortuna, Corneria, and Fichina. I'm banking on Fichina as the delivery location. There's nothing on the eastern part of the landmass. It's a huge island north of Fortuna, and because of the ice sheets, the Navy's warships can't get close to it."

Fox nodded to Slippy as a way of congratulating him for coming to a similar conclusion beforehand, then asked Hartmann, "How are we supposed to stop the planes or put trackers on them? Infiltrate the base?"

"I don't see another way to do it, especially if you want any chance at getting your friend back."

Lucas frowned and crossed his arms. "Boss, that's going to put us all in a lot of danger. Is it really worth it? Also, since when have you cared so much about rescuing a hostage?"

Hartmann narrowed his eyes and pointed at his teammate. "The difference here is that I owe this hostage a favor."

Lucas sighed. "This has to do with that one time last year when you met that girl at the casino, disappeared into the Lotus Eater motel for the whole night, and refused to answer any of my calls, doesn't it?"

Hartmann blushed furiously. "Yes. It does."

"I'm going to have to hear about this," said Fox.

"Later," Hartmann replied once again. "Can we just put that aside for a moment and focus on what needs to be done with the weapons?"

"Sure—whatever," Lucas replied.

"Okay then," said Hartmann. "We need to go over every schematic of the Anthracite base so we can plan our infiltration."

For the first time, Slippy spoke up. "Ooh! An infiltration! I've always wanted to be part of one of those."

Lucas stared at him, a flat, displeased expression radiating from his face. "I think not. You look like you're a lot more cut out to infiltrate the refrigerator in the back room."

Slippy bared his gums, because as a frog, he had no teeth – at least, not unless one looked closely enough. "Seriously, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"I'm sure. Are you going to get even fatter and then Toad Smash me?" Lucas groaned.

At that moment, Slippy's face took on a malevolent property that Fox never thought he would see from him. Considering that Lucas was in the seat next to him, Slippy grabbed his hood and yanked him off the bench. Stunned, Lucas hit the concrete floor behind him and tried sitting up, but not quickly enough to prevent Slippy from leaping off the bench and onto his stomach.

"How you like me now?" he shouted, punching the canid in the muzzle with both fists so rapidly that his arms almost resembled blurs. His continued attacks prevented Lucas from responding, but it didn't seem to prevent Slippy from demanding that Lucas answer his question. Suddenly, Slippy felt like he could fly. With no effort whatsoever, he ascended into the air. But then, he realized what had actually happened as he turned around against his own will and found himself staring into Hartmann's ice-blue eyes while being held up by his jacket's collar.

He thrashed his limbs, but Hartmann held him far enough away from his body to prevent him from injuring anything but himself. From Fox's perspective, Slippy looked like a child compared to the burly husky, and his attempts to escape the canine's grasp were equally pathetic. Despite his best efforts, Fox burst out laughing. Seconds later, Hartmann lost his will to keep a straight face and dropped Slippy, only to clutch his chest in laughter and slap the edge of the table with his other hand.

While Slippy rounded the table and shuffled over to Fox, Lucas brushed himself off and reclaimed his seat. "Damn! He hits hard!"

"I warned you," Slippy replied, crossing his arms.

"I guess I should have believed you. But still, I'd prefer not to be assigned with you for this job."

Still trying and failing to suppress his residual laughter, Hartmann glanced at Lucas and stated, "Actually, I was planning on that. Thanks to your work, we know that the base has been experiencing some issues with its security system. Before I kidnapped Fox, I managed to find the contractor who's scheduled to work on the system. He's supposed to arrive at the base tomorrow at 1000 hours. We'll find a way to detain him while you and Slippy pose as IT experts and gain access to the facility in his place. From reading Slippy's intel file, I know he's responsible for putting together quite a few of the base's security features. If we can get him inside, it'll make the mission that much easier."

Lucas's expression fell. Attempting to come up with anything that could conceivably prevent him from having to work with Slippy, he suggested, "But they'll recognize him. He's worked with them before."

"He'll have to use a disguise, of course," Hartmann replied. "I had planned on that from the beginning. I'll let him decide what he wants to do about it."

Slippy looked in his direction. "I've got a few ideas. You got any scrap metal around here?"

Hartmann locked eyes with Lucas, whose face bore a crestfallen, disappointed countenance. Then, he glanced to his right and answered Slippy. "This used to be a car factory, so there should be some lying around."

"Great! I'll get right to work," said Slippy, walking away from the table and into the cavernous expanse that defined the main factory floor.

With Slippy out of earshot, Hartmann lowered his head and whispered, "This may have been a bad idea."

"You're telling me," Lucas muttered with his raspy voice. He stood up and claimed his laptop, which sat in front of Hartmann. Then, he stuffed it into his shoulder bag and walked in the direction of the van in which he had arrived.

Looking at Fox out the corner of his eye, Hartmann explained, "He'll get over it eventually. He doesn't like to work with other people – that's all."

"Then why don't you let him work by himself here?" Fox asked.

"Simple – because your friend has the skills and knowledge we need to make this work. The whole mission is dependent on him."

Fox cringed and covered one of his eyes with his hand. "I'm not sure I like that."

"Neither do it," Hartmann replied. "But it has to be done. Our first course of action tomorrow is to intercept the contractor who's supposed to fix Anthracite's security system. We can do it a number of ways, but the quieter it is, the better. Then, after Slippy and Lucas enter the base, we'll get in touch with them and figure out a way to get in. With the security system undergoing maintenance, we won't have any trouble accessing the rooms inside the complex. That might even include the weapons storehouse."

"Don't get your hopes up," Fox warned. "I know the leader of Anthracite. He's smart enough not to have his most important room protected by only one system."

"I was just trying to be optimistic. I agree with you, though. Once we get in, I think placing trackers on the planes should be our goal. That way, the West Fortunan and Cornerian armies will finally know where to go to put a stop to the weapons trafficking."

"Sounds like a plan," Fox replied, sliding out of the table's bench.

From next to the second van's front door, Lucas called out, "Hey, boss—I'm going to run out to pick up some lunch. Do you want me to bring back anything?"

Hartmann paused for thought, then answered, "I've you're going to that vegan place again, count me out. I think I'd rather crack open some rations than eat that shit again."

Lucas's ears drooped, but because they were underneath his hood, all that could be seen was the fabric lowering slightly. "Fine. I'll go to the Burger Joint. Happy?"

"You'd better believe it," Hartmann grinned. "You might as well pick up something for Fox and Slippy, too. Don't worry, I'll pay you back."

"Fine," Lucas muttered again before he climbed into one of the vans and started the engine. The garage door behind him creaked open, allowing him to back out. Seconds later, the overhead door closed again and left Fox and Hartmann to themselves. Somewhere in the bowels of the factory, Fox thought he heard the sound of sparks flying.

"Can Slippy even eat a cheeseburger?" asked Hartmann.

Fox snickered. "I think with him, if there's a will, there's a way when it comes to food."

"I hear you. Still, I want to see him do that."

A smile crept onto Fox's face as the thought of Slippy attempting to eat a cheeseburger entered his mind. But then, he recalled Hartmann's unexplained history with his vixenly friend. Sliding closer to the husky, he lowered his voice and asked, "So, how do you know Scarlet? And do you really think she's in Anthracite's base?"

"If she's alive, she's probably in there. If anything, they may be trying to use her as bait. If you check your email anytime soon, you might find a ransom notice or something like that. Unfortunately, that might be hard to do because we destroyed your computer when we raided your room. You're welcome."

Rage filled Fox's eyes. "What the hell? Why would you do that? Oh wait…the tracking bug."

"Correct. However, we did save your hard drive, so your data isn't gone. We also took your bags with us when we went through your room. You definitely don't want to be going back to the hotel anytime soon.

"You got that right," Fox huffed. "I'm still ticked off that Scarlet took the fall for all of this."

Hartmann opened his hands. "It is what it is, Fox. Don't worry – if she's in that base, I'll do everything I can to make sure she gets out alive."

"Thanks. I get the feeling you're doing it for yourself, though."

Hartmann sighed and shook his head. "You're right. You see, Scarlet and I met at a casino last year and hooked up for one night at the same hotel that you were staying at. We had a good time, but we both knew that it would never work for the two of us to stay together. Still, since then, I've felt like I owe her something. I was going through a depression after losing my fiancée on a mission, and Scarlet helped take my mind off of it."

His face solemn, Fox glanced at the husky. "You lost your wife, too?"

"We're not that different, are we, Fox?" Hartmann asked in response. "I'm not going to make that same mistake again – the mistake of putting the person I love the most in harm's way on a daily basis. If I find another mate, it'll be after I'm finished with Onyx."

Fox nodded in agreement, then thought about Scarlet. _"If a little romance with her helped this guy through a tough time, maybe it would work for me too? But then again, the two of them could never make a real relationship work. I don't think Scarlet would be happy with anything less than that with me. Am I stupid for actually considering that?"_

While Fox sifted through his thoughts, Hartmann nudged him and said, "Hey, I'm going to look over the base schematics while I wait for Lucas to bring back lunch. Give me a holler if you need anything."

Startled, Fox jumped back into reality. "Oh…sure."

While the husky left the table and walked towards a workbench fifty feet away, Fox leaned forward and boarded his train of thought again. Then, his ears perked up at the sound of Hartmann's phone ringing. Glancing at the canine out of the corner of his eye, he listened as he answered the call.

"Hello? What is it? What? She's here? Lucas, don't let her out of your sight. Capture her and bring her to me, no questions asked. Got it? Good."

While Hartmann ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket, Fox asked, "Was that who I think you were talking about?"

"Yes," Hartmann replied, turning around and facing Fox. "With all luck, we'll have ourselves a new source of intel within the hour. If Lucas can capture her and bring her here, I'll make sure you get the chance to thank her for your computer virus."

A faint, grim smile appeared on Fox's face. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 He's a Lucario, if that wasn't obvious enough.

2 Originally, Lucas was introduced much later, and Hartmann had two other teammates named Xavier and Vincent. Neither of them had much personality, and in the interest of cutting back on unwanted, uninteresting OC's, I replaced them with Lucas.

3 Headcanon info: Ichtos is a third world nation on the easternmost edge of the Western Pangea, east of Macbeth and north of Papetoon. Ichtos was formerly run by an autocratic Supreme Commander. A proxy war between Corneria and Macbeth broke out two years prior to _Sierra Foxtrot_ regarding Ichtos's fledgling nuclear weapons program. In the end, Corneria launched strikes against Ichtos, and Macbeth backed off and later coerced the people of Ichtos to force their leader out when it became apparent that Corneria would declare war and invade the nation if the nukes were not disposed of.


	8. Cassandra

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 4: Cassandra_

 _Chapter 7_

After hearing about his unit's discovery of the East Fortunan spy known as Cassandra, Hartmann abandoned his analysis of Anthracite's base and returned to the lunch table. Reclaiming his seat next to Fox, he sat with his arms folded on the tabletop, waiting for any updates from his comrade.

Then, after fifteen minutes, his phone rang. Within a second of the first sound, he pulled it to ear level. "What is it? Did you get her?"

Lucas's voice echoed through the phone's speakers. Although somewhat garbled, the tone of his voice gave Hartmann hope. _"I got her, boss. She's been secured in the van."_

Hartmann felt a surge of jubilation shoot through him, but he refused to allow it to impact his judgment. "Did you check to see what she has on her? A phone, a computer, even RF tags?"

 _"I already did. I didn't find any RF tags, but I found both a military-grade comms device and a laptop with her. What should we do next? It's up to you, boss."_

The husky scratched his muzzle and glanced at Fox out of the corner of his eye, then answered, "I've got an idea of how we can get the most information possible out of her, and it involves those two devices. Whatever you do, don't destroy them. Immediately after this call is over, head to the abandoned downtown warehouse where we set up shop a month ago. I'll meet you there."

A trance of concern laced Lucas's voice. _"Boss, her phone and her computer are_ definitely _being tracked._ _Are you sure this is a good idea?"_

"It's the best idea I've got. We're going to force her to contact her CO once we get her to the warehouse. We'll try to get him to speak by asking him our questions through her. We're going to need both of her devices to be active if we want to make it seem legitimate. Their spy agency will probably track her to the warehouse, but we'll be gone before anyone can check it out. We'll just have to make sure we never use that location again."

 _"Got it. I'll head to the warehouse now. And sorry, but I didn't get a chance to pick up any food. Hope that doesn't bother you too much."_

"What? That's unacceptable!" Hartmann snarled before he let out a pacifying laugh and commented, "Nah, it's not a problem – we'll get something later."

With that, he closed the call, shoved his phone back into his pants pocket, and turned to Fox. "I'm going to hit the road. You should come with me. Better bring your friend, too. I don't trust him here by himself."

Fox cocked his head to the side. "He _is_ an adult, you know. Although I guess I could see how you missed that."

"No, no," Hartmann chuckled. "I just don't like the idea of having him free to roam around here while we're away. You'd better go get him. I'll have the van ready to leave by the time you get back."

Fox nodded before he disappeared into the darkened factory outside the garage area, following the repetitive sound of sparks flying in hopes that it would lead him to Slippy.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

An uneasy fifteen minute journey brought Fox, Slippy, and Hartmann to the rusted front door of the old warehouse that the husky had designated as Cassandra's interrogation area. The area surrounding the dilapidated building struck Fox as being one of the most lifeless places that he had ever visited. The distant sound of the city's interstate traffic mixed with the occasional emergency siren crept into the abandoned slums, providing the only noise that overshadowed the faint, humid wind that breezed through the crumbling concrete buildings surrounding the warehouse.

Hartmann eased the van up to the warehouse door, and after a timid tap on the horn, the door rolled open and revealed the other van inside the building next to a corroded table with two chairs around it. While the husky parked the van next to its twin, Fox unclipped his seat belt and jumped out of the vehicle with one of Onyx's assault rifles in his right hand. It did nothing to put him at ease, but before arriving, Hartman had warned both him and Slippy to arm themselves.

The warehouse sported over twenty concrete columns that supported the curved ceiling, while empty shelves ran along the sides of the building's interior. The sunlight from outside crept through the dingy, thick, plastic windows near the roof. Still, even in the heat of the day, the warehouse interior was dimly lit at best.

Fox stepped towards the makeshift table, where he noticed an unfamiliar laptop opened on the gray metal tabletop. Two figures sat behind the table—Lucas and the blue-furred vixen that Fox immediately recognized as Krystal. For a second, she lifted her eyes from the table's surface and gazed into Fox's. Disappointment and anger radiated from them, and her entire blue-coated persona looked both furious and on edge.

Glancing at the surface of the table near Krystal—but well out of her reach—Fox spotted an automatic shotgun. As he heard Hartmann and Slippy open their respective doors and climb out of the van behind him, Fox stepped up to the table and looked at Krystal's face. Even though he had found himself unable to stop staring at her back in Aquas, he realized that he had never recognized how beautiful she actually was in person. Even her photographs lacked something that her tangible form possessed.

In a quiet voice that came out with a faint rasp, he asked the vixen, "Why were you tracking me?"

Krystal said nothing and continued staring at the table.

Raising his voice to a distinct growl, Fox demanded, "What's so important about me that you thought it was necessary to have me kidnapped?"

Again, Krystal made no response. Upset, Fox turned to his right and locked eyes with Hartmann as he approached him. The canine waved him off, then whispered, "Don't worry – we'll get her to talk. We always get our subjects to talk."

Fox winced. The thought of what Onyx might do to the beautiful vixen to make her spit out her information pained him. Nevertheless, he too wanted to know what she kept hidden from the vast majority of the world; and knowing that she had a significant part in the debacle in Aquas and his current situation with Anthracite caused much of his sympathy for her to disappear.

Hartmann motioned for him and Slippy to back away from the desk while Lucas stood up and rolled a cart into position in front of the desk. An oversized LCD display sat atop it, and Fox failed to understand its purpose until Slippy nudged him and explained, "They're using it to give her prompts."

Once the screen had been wheeled into place and powered up via a long, yellow extension cord, Hartmann approached Krystal, determination in his eyes and a swagger in his walk. In the process, he placed his assault rifle on the table in front of her and picked up the automatic shotgun. Pointing his finger at her computer, he ordered her, "Enter your password. Now."

Krystal was unmoved. Refusing to acknowledge the husky's command, she kept her eyes lowered and remained motionless.

"All right, then. You asked for it," Hartmann barked.

Brandishing his shotgun, he stepped beside Krystal and pointed the weapon downwards, towards her knees. The desire to cycle the weapon and create an intimidating noise struck him, but the weapon's design prevented it.

"Last chance, Cassandra. Spit it out, or say goodbye to your legs.¹ Your choice. Firing on three. One. Two…"

Standing next to the large monitor, Lucas cringed and averted his eyes.

Suddenly, Krystal glared at Hartmann and shrieked, "I'll do it! I'll do it! Don't kill me! Please!"

Hartmann smirked for a split second, but he hardened his expression before anyone noticed. "Thank you for your cooperation." With Krystal suddenly compliant, he stepped up to the desk and watched her type in her password. When the computer's main screen loaded, he knelt next to her and spoke into her ear. "Open a video conference with your CO."

Unlike the last time Hartmann gave her an order, she gritted her teeth and hesitated.

"You know what I'll do if you don't cooperate," Hartmann whispered.

Shaking her head, Krystal moved her cursor to the icon belonging to her video conferencing program and double clicked it. "You monster. You won't get away with this."

Unmoved by Krystal's empty threat, Hartmann stepped away from the desk and took a seat to the left of the currently blank prompting screen. While he sat down, Lucas opened his laptop and handed it to him. While waiting for Krystal's communications line to queue up, he typed several words into the computer. As his fingers touched the keys, the words appeared on the prompting screen in large, white letters. Aptly so, his first message was, _"Say what is on the screen in front of you, exactly how I say it."_

Krystal's feeble nod was enough to let him know that she understood him. In seconds, the video conferencing app loaded and connected with Krystal's contact. As it did in Aquas, her commander's vulpine visage appeared on her screen, peering into her eyes with an intensity that _chilled her to the bone. "¿Qué es, mi amiga? Have Fox and Slippy been eliminated?"_

Hartmann tapped three keys on Lucas's computer, causing the word 'Yes' to appear on the teleprompter screen.

"Yes," Krystal choked, wanting nothing more than to reveal that she was being forced to talk yet fearing for her life at the same time.

 _"Excellent work,"_ Rafa replied. _"After what happened in Aquas, I was starting to wonder if you had lost your touch. If I may ask, how did you do it?"_

 _"I tracked them with the bug we planted in my website, and then when they landed, I gave their location to Anthracite's leader (use his name if you know it). His men killed them and forwarded the news to me,"_ Hartmann typed.

Krystal nearly gasped in shock as the words reached the screen in front of the desk. She struggled to comprehend how anyone could have seen through her plan so perfectly, especially since she had failed to complete it. Stuttering, she said, "I…I tracked them with the bug we planted in my website, and then when they landed, I gave their location to W…Wolf. His men killed them and forwarded the news to me."

Her heart trembled when a confused, surly frown crossed Rafa's face. However, it dissipated almost immediately, replaced by his usual glacial stare. _"Excellent job, amiga. With Fox no more, we can move on to bigger and better things. Gracias."_

Up until that point, Fox had backed up to one of the vans and leaned against it; but the sound of Rafa's voice caused his ears to shoot up.

" _I know that voice. That's Rafa—his speech patterns are identical. But…how? Why is he talking with Krystal? Is there something I didn't know about him? This can't be right! Rafa was the closest thing I had to a brother in my old unit! Am I thinking through this right? He did seem a bit distant there at the end, and he hardly talked at all during the Northpoint operation. Could it…could it really be?"_

Although a visible tempest of emotions broke out on Fox's face, no one in the room noticed – not even Slippy.

Not wanting to create an awkward silence in Krystal's conversation, Hartmann stormed the keyboard in front of him, attempting to form a long, articulate question before the gap between Krystal and Rafa's words became too great. By some miracle, the words appeared on the screen the way that Hartmann intended them to.

 _"I've been hearing about someone by the name of Andross Bowman. Can you tell me about him?"_

Krystal glanced at the prompt screen and narrowed her eyes in confusion. _"I've never heard anything about this 'Andross' person. Is there something Rafa isn't telling me that I need to know?"_ Then, realizing that the vulpine likely noticed her expression, she tried to calm herself before repeating the line on the screen.

"I've been hearing about someone by the name of Andross Bowman. Can you tell me about him?"

 _"I don't know what you're talking about. Who is this 'Bowman' person supposed to be?"_ Rafa asked in response.

Hartmann prepared his answer and displayed it on the screen. _"I heard that he was working on developing weapons for the military. I was wondering if you knew anything about him."_

Again, Krystal mimed the words on the screen; and this time, the tone of her voice seemed genuinely inquisitive. As she finished stating the question, she watched Rafa's face in hopes that he would give the answer to her. She hated that the scumbags responsible for capturing and searching her would hear about it as well, but in a way, she felt that it would be worth it for the sake of knowing the answer for herself.

Through the computer screen, the dull-furred vulpine looked away from the camera. Then, he looked back at Krystal, this time with a faint, devious grin etched onto his muzzle and an evil glint in his yellow eyes. _"You'll never know,"_ he snarled. _"And neither will the people prompting you to ask me these questions."_

Suddenly, the roll-up door near the front of the warehouse disintegrated in a fiery explosion. Scraps of metal flew through the air, barely missing Hartmann, Fox, Lucas, and Slippy. At the same time, a distant, normal-sized metal door in the back corner of the building burst open. Five soldiers raced into the warehouse with guns blazing—two from the front, and three from the back corner. All of them sported helmets and combat armor.

Hartmann leaped out of his chair like a bomb had been strapped to it and pressed himself against the back of the nearest support column in the warehouse as bullets flew around him. "Everyone! Defensive positions!"

In the midst of the chaos, Rafa continued speaking through Krystal's computer. Uproarious laughter coated his words. _"HA! You thought you could play me for a fool, but I picked up on your game right from the beginning! And during the time you wasted trying to get more information out of me, I ordered a team of elite soldiers to move on your position. And now, you will all die. Hasta luego, bitches!"²_

Rafa's image on the computer screen cut out seconds later.

With one of Onyx's vans acting as his only cover, Fox crept to the back edge of the vehicle and fired at the source of the newly-created light coming in from the eviscerated garage door. From behind the column twenty feet to his right, Hartmann did the same, firing off three shotgun spreads and then ducking behind the pillar a split second before an enemy bullet chipped off part of its corner.

"Fox! They're going behind the vans! Watch your feet!" the husky shouted.

Heeding his warning, Fox crouched behind the van's front wheel. Then, he scanned the area and noticed Slippy standing in front of the other van's hood twenty feet from him. Krystal struggled in her chair, having been cuffed to it earlier. Fearing that she would be caught in the attackers' crossfire, she let out a panicked 'yip' and tried to extricate herself from the chair. Much to her dismay, the result of her desperation was her chair falling over and crashing to the floor with a loud rattle that filled the entire warehouse. At the same time, Lucas seemed to vanish, with nary a trace of him to be found.

Fox watched a cylindrical object fly over the vans and roll to a stop next to the desk the moment after Krystal's chair hit the floor. He shouted "Flashbang!" but the stun grenade erupted before he could force the word out of his mouth. He shut his eyes and covered his ears, but the blast still rocked his internals. Struggling to stay on his feet, he looked to his right and watched Slippy fall against the front of the other van, holding his head and groaning in pain.

While Fox struggled to focus, Hartmann darted from behind his cover and sprinted around the back of Fox's van while the sound of the flashbang was still fresh in the building. Rounding the back of the vehicle, he saw two heavily armed soldiers sprinting around the side of Slippy's van and opened fire on one of them. His pellets hit their mark, and the soldier dropped to the floor.

The remaining soldier jumped behind the second van and fired back at Hartmann from cover, but he had already moved to the other side of the vehicle, where Slippy struggled to stay upright after receiving the brunt of the flash grenade's force. On the opposite side of Krystal's desk, which provided an awkward central point for the skirmish, haphazard gunfire erupted near the warehouse's back entrance, where the other three troops had entered. None of the bullets came anywhere near the two vans, which allowed Fox and Hartmann to focus completely on the one remaining soldier in their vicinity.

Wasting no time, Fox hit the deck and stared down his rifle's sights from underneath the first van. On the back side of the second van, he spotted his enemy's boots as the trooper poked out from behind the vehicle to take another series of shots.

" _Gotcha."_

Fox flicked the trigger, peppering the soldier's feet with lead. His enemy screamed and dropped his weapon before collapsing on the ground. He curled up into a fetal position, clutching his wounded feet. With his target down, Fox stood back up and turned towards the back of the warehouse, which had become eerily silent.

However, his attention drifted to Hartmann. A determined grimace on his lips, the husky stepped out from behind the first van and walked up to the wounded soldier. Without remorse, he raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger.

Fox's eyes flew wide. "Whoa! What the hell, Hartmann?!"

Hartmann glared back at him. "We can't have anyone talking."

The noise level inside the warehouse settled down, with no additional gunshots ringing out. Cupping his hands to his mouth, Hartmann shouted, "Lucas? You all right, buddy?"

On cue, the jackal emerged from behind a support pillar near the back of the warehouse. In the process, he dragged out a pink-furred feline³, whom he held in a chokehold. The woman thrashed in his arms, but Lucas held her fast and prevented her from doing anything more than bumping him with her elbows. After a moment, however, he grew tired of having to resist her attempts to break free; and he choked her out. Throwing her over his shoulders, he lumbered back towards Fox, Hartmann, and Slippy.

A moment later, Fox's ears rang from the sound of a feminine scream nearby. Turning towards Krystal's desk, he approached the vixen's toppled chair and heaved her back into an upright position. Only then did he notice the growing red patch on her upper right leg that had already soaked through her dress. Krystal let out several yelps of pain, whimpering as the blood dripped down her leg.

He considered asking Hartmann to locate a tourniquet, but when Krystal screamed, "Help me!" to his face, he gazed into her pain-stricken eyes that hinted at a raging ocean of emotions too numerous to list. While Hartmann and Lucas approached her, Fox pulled off his black t-shirt and tied it around her leg to block off the blood flow. For a moment, Krystal stopped whimpering; and Fox wondered if it had anything to do with her laying eyes on his muscular upper body.

Hartmann stopped next to Fox and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Things are going to get a lot worse if we don't get out of here now. Fox, untie Krystal and put her in the van that we came in." He craned his head towards the warehouse's eviscerated roll-up entry door. "Lucas – put that trooper in your van, then try to help Slippy get into the back. That flashbang really shook him up. I'll take care of the screen and the extension cord."

Fox nodded and pulled his knife out of its holster on his waist while the two members of Onyx sped into a frenzy. As his blade cut through the ropes binding Krystal to her chair, the teleprompting screen whizzed past him out of the corner of his eye. The sound of one of the van doors opening reached his ears three seconds later. Each of the ropes around Krystal dropped to the ground one after the other until nothing held her to the chair. Yet, even then, she remained seated, whimpering from the pain in her leg. Still, she had the clarity of mind to glance at Fox and whisper, "Thank you."

"Can you stand up?" Fox asked her, taking a quick glance to his left in time to see Lucas helping Slippy into the back of the second van.

Krystal shook her head. "I'm sorry – it hurts too much. C…can you carry me? Please?"

A scowl crossed Fox's face. His sympathy for the vixen remained at rock bottom, and his knowledge of her complicity in the Aquas fiasco made him want to force her to limp her way to the van, bleeding leg and all. Yet, he realized that time was of the essence; and carrying her would provide the quickest way to extract her from the warehouse. Gritting his teeth, he reached under her legs with one hand, placing the other under her back. He lifted Krystal from the chair and carried her to the van that he had arrived in. For a second, he bore her full body weight with one hand and pulled the van door open, then placed her on the cargo floor behind the front seats. Due to her injury, he doubted that she would attempt to escape.

He reached for the van door to close it, but then heard Hartmann shout out, "Do you mind riding with her in the back? We need someone to try to calm her down."

Fox looked back at Krystal, who returned a weak, tearful frown and clutched at her leg.

"Fine," he muttered.

"Good. Let's get going! The police will be here any second now – either that, or more soldiers. Lucas – we'll take the back route to the hideout. Someone might try to follow us, and if they do, we'll have more time to lose them by taking the alternate route."

As he climbed into the back of the van with Krystal, Fox noticed that Hartmann had both the vixen's computer and cell phone in his hands. But only for a moment. To Krystal's horror, he sprinted over to the nearest wall and smashed the computer into the side of it multiple times until it resembled metallic papier-mâché. Throwing it to the ground so forcefully that the screen bifurcated from the keyboard, he dropped the phone next to it and fired a shotgun blast into the front of the screen. The device spat out sparks, then started smoking.

Krystal grimaced and held her head in her hands as she watched her last traces of connection with her contacts being destroyed in front of her. She felt completely hopeless. Surrounded by hostile soldiers who (she felt) considered her a disposable piece of information, she looked to Fox as the only person around her who viewed her as anything more than that. At the same time, she realized the delusion of her own thoughts. All Fox knew her for were her provocative internet pictures and his brief interaction with her in Aquas. He held no sympathy for her, and she knew it. Or did he?

As the holder of a rare talent among her race, Krystal had the ability to read surface-level thoughts and the deeper emotions behind them. When Fox closed the van's side door, she took the opportunity to 'feel out' his emotions regarding her. To her surprise, she recognized a faint iota of disappointment related to her line of work, suggesting that he would have been at least somewhat interested in her if she had not been responsible for so much of his recent duress.

Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when Hartmann climbed into the van and started the engine before reversing out of the warehouse. The only windows in the van flanked the front seats, preventing Krystal and Fox from seeing anything outside the van. However, Hartmann's posture reflected an air of confident relief that came from escaping the warehouse mostly unscathed. Turning onto another abandoned street flanked by eroding buildings that resembled the factory in which Onyx kept their current hideout, he peered over his shoulder at Fox and said, "Try to get her to calm down. It'll slow down her bleeding until Lucas can operate on her leg."

Krystal yelped, causing Hartmann's ears to shoot up. "What? Does he have any experience?"

"You'll be fine," the husky replied. "He's from Papetoon. They don't have any real medical care down there, so to survive, he had to learn to do it himself."

A horrified, speechless stare acted as Krystal's response. However, instead of asking any more questions, she looked to Fox, hoping to elicit some kind of response from him. As Krystal locked eyes with him, an awkward sensation coursed through his body. Hoping to eliminate the uneasy tension between him and her, he told Krystal, "Just try to relax. Focus on your breathing. You'll be out of here soon."

Krystal obeyed, letting out a heavy sigh and pulling her legs to her chest while ignoring the fact that her bloodstained dress only came to the middle of her thighs while she was standing. Fox winced when he caught a glimpse of Krystal's injured leg. In spite of his makeshift tourniquet, a foot-wide circle of deep crimson coated her blue fur above her right knee. Despite her best efforts to calm herself by taking deep breaths, she shuddered every few seconds as her numbing leg throbbed in pain. She closed her eyes, but it was not enough to prevent a single tear from dripping down her face.

Fox had in mind to ask her why she would want to track him – of all people – from Aquas to Katina, but her pitiable body language took away any chances of that question being resolved. After five minutes of driving, the run-down 'ghost district' gave way to a suburban area that became more and more luxurious as the miles rolled past. Pulling into the left turn lane (Katinans drove on the right), Hartmann stopped the van at a red traffic signal and leaned back in his seat. He waited nearly a minute for the light to turn green; and when it finally did, his phone rang from inside his pocket. Waiting until he had turned onto the avenue to the left, he extricated his phone and activated its 'speaker' setting.

"Lucas? What is it now?"

"There's been an interesting development, boss. It seems that the frog knows the soldier I choked out. She came to after we pulled out of the warehouse, and the frog immediately started arguing with her after that. One thing that tells us is that we were attacked by Anthracite. I was wondering how those soldiers got to the warehouse so quickly. That answers that."

"Dammit," Hartman grunted, punching the rim of his steering wheel. "I really hope that doesn't make tomorrow's operation more difficult than it's already going to be."

"We didn't leave any survivors apart from her, so I don't think it puts us at any more of a disadvantage than before," Lucas replied. "Having another hostage means you're going to be busy with interrogations for a little while, though."

Hartmann chuckled. "Bring it on. I'm a big boy—I can handle it."

Lucas snickered enough for his boss to hear it. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He ended the call a second later.

Moving his phone back to his cupholder, Hartmann grinned. Then, he glanced over his shoulder and announced, "We'll be back at the factory in ten minutes. Fox, just keep trying to get 'Cassandra' to calm down."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 In the first version, an additional member of Onyx was in Hartmann's role here. He aimed straight for Krystal's head and threatened to kill her immediately if she did not log on. Nail Strafer pointed out that this was not logical, and that it would have made much more sense for Hartmann to offer the threat of a kneecapping if he wanted to force her to comply.

2 Boy, this edit _really_ altered the story. Previously, Krystal merely spoke with a Macbeth officer, which made the consequences of her talking-to much less severe.

3 Originally, this was Miyu; and Fox was responsible for knocking her out.


	9. The Interrogation (Cue Dramatic Music)

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 5: The Interrogation (Cue Dramatic Music)  
_

 _Chapter 8_

The two vans rolled back into the abandoned factory. After two pairs of brake squeaks, all sound ceased until the doors opened. While Hartmann jumped out of the driver's seat and walked towards the other van, Fox opened the side door and helped Krystal out of the vehicle. He gently set her on the ground and helped her catch her footing, but when her wounded leg touched the floor, she yipped and stumbled forward. Fox put his arms around her waist and prevented her from falling, then lifted her off the ground and held her.

Over the sound of Lucas, Slippy, and the other prisoner climbing out of the van to the right of Hartmann's, he thought he heard Krystal whisper, "Thanks."

In a moment, Lucas approached Fox and took a long, concerned look at Krystal's leg. Then, he ordered Fox, "Put her on the lunch table. I need to get that bullet out of her leg immediately."

Fox balked. "What? You're going to operate on her over _there?"_

"Does it look like I've got another option? If she loses much more blood, she might die; and if that happens, we'll lose the information about her superiors that she might be willing to talk about!"

Struggling to believe what he was doing, Fox carried Krystal to the table and set her on top of it. The vixen glared at him with fear in her eyes as her skin and fur touched the cold metal tabletop, but she sat still nonetheless. Despite her concerns, Fox knew that she wanted the bullet removed from her leg as much as Lucas did. A mere moment later, the jackal returned from the van, holding a bevy of small medical instruments and several hypodermic needles, which he placed on the table next to Krystal.

While the others milled about the area, Lucas looked over his shoulder and asked, "Hey – can you all go into the main factory for a few hours? I need to focus here. Maybe you can use the time to get to know our prisoner."

"Fine. Sure thing," Hartmann replied, turning towards the rest of the group. "You heard what he said. Head into the assembly line area and wait until he lets us back in here."

Fox and Slippy followed Hartmann out of the garage area into the main factory, along with the only mercenary fortunate enough to have survived the earlier skirmish in the downtown warehouse. Entering the enormous assembly line area, Fox stared at the woman, dressed in one of Anthracite's dark gray military uniforms. Her physique suggested a basic feline makeup, although her hot pink fur and short, white hair made her stand out like neon green hypercar in a traffic jam full of rusted trucks.

Slippy walked beside her, and judging from their mannerisms, Fox could tell that the two had never been on the best of terms while in Anthracite. Still, he had the feeling that Slippy enjoyed having a former comrade around.

After putting two hundred feet between them and the closed-off garage area, Hartmann stopped the group and looked at the pink cat. "You – have a seat. We've got some things to ask you."

Fear radiated from the cat's eyes. "You don't have to be so pissy. Just keep that _monster_ away from me, and I'll tell you everything."

Hartmann raised a curious eyebrow. "You mean Lucas? You're afraid of _him?_ Really?"

The feline's eyes opened even wider than before. "Are you kidding me? The Blue Fire From Hell—it's going to keep me awake at night for weeks!"

"The Blue Fire From Hell?" Hartmann muttered, cocking his head. "That's a new one. Maybe that can be his nickname. Ironic that he's a pacifist...mostly."

"He made me kill my teammate!" the feline yelped. "I was so terrified that I couldn't even shoot straight! He was _literally on fire!_ "

Hartmann raised his already-elevated eyebrow to a ludicrous pitch. "Um, are you sure we shouldn't be doing a psychiatric evaluation instead?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Slippy creeping towards the back room where Fox had located him earlier, but he said nothing about it and allowed him to slip out of sight. Seconds later, the sound of sparks flying filled the air inside the factory. Giving Fox an odd, confused stare, he asked, "What the heck is he doing back there?"

Fox shrugged. "He's building some kind of machine…cart…thing. It looked like a wheelchair, but there's no way that's what it's supposed to be. I guess we'll find out sooner or later."

Eager to change the topic, the feline sat down on the dusty floor and suggested, "I'll bet you anything that it actually _is_ a wheelchair. Knowing him, it'll probably have a missile launcher in it or something. Guy makes some weird shit."

"Did he do that kind of thing when he was with Anthracite?" Hartmann asked.

"What? Build remote controlled wheelchairs with missile launchers? Well, not exactly; but boy – you should have seen some of the screwball things he came up with. Yeesh."

Crossing his arms, Hartmann stepped closer to the cat and stared at her with the most intimidating expression possible. "We'd like to know about them, especially if they're being used by your boss."

The feline craned her head upwards, then frowned. "You know, you don't have to try to look tough. You don't intimidate me at all. Now, that so-called 'pacifist' on the other hand…"

Hartmann's face contorted into an unhappy mess of frustrated emotions that caused him to bite his lip and take another step towards the feline. He clenched his teeth. "What's your name?"

The feline crossed her arms and looked back and forth at Fox and Hartmann. "My name's Katt—you know, because I'm a cat? Don't blame me—I didn't come up with that name."

"Well, Katt, what do you know about Anthracite?" asked Hartmann.

Katt rested her head on her hands, her anxiety causing them to twitch slightly. "Well, if I tell you what you want to know, can you help me out?"

Hartmann glanced at Fox. "Maybe? What do you want?"

"I want a paying gig outside Anthracite. Even a job reference might be good enough," said Katt.

After scratching his muzzle for a second, Fox replied, "I might be able to help you. I'm rebuilding my unit at the moment. I've already recruited Slippy, but I need about three or four more to complete the team. What are your skills?"

Katt's eyes shifted to reflect unease. "I'll be totally honest: I shoot people and fix cars. I also do a bit of computer work on the side, if that helps anything."

Fox crossed his arms in thought. "It actually does. I'm out a computer specialist at the moment, and my office staff is constantly screwing up the computers at my base. Why do you want out of Anthracite so badly, though?"

"Hey, it's not like you're going to take me back to them. You freaking murdered my battle buddies back at that warehouse so they wouldn't be able to report back to Wolf, so why would you make an exception for me?" Her eyes narrowed. "There's something else, though: it's one of Wolf's lieutenants—some douche canoe called 'Panther' who's been trying to hit on me ever since I joined Anthracite. He shoved me up against a wall two days ago, and he might have done something horrible if that creepy chameleon hadn't shown up. It just keeps getting worse. I can't put up with it anymore. That's why I want out."

As a disturbed look appeared on Fox's face, Hartmann shook his head and replied, "Sheesh, what a tool. Well, in that case, I'll leave it up to Fox to decide if he wants to bring you on or not. I'm not looking to expand."

Katt nodded. "If you want to know about Anthracite, what should I start with? Slippy's inventions?"

Hartmann looked at Fox, then shrugged. "Might as well start somewhere. Are these things actually useful? Better yet, what are they?"

A faint smile crept onto Katt's face as she cycled through her mental filing cabinet, pulling up memories related to some of Slippy's more ridiculous projects, some of which were actually idiotic enough to work. After pausing for thought for a quarter of a minute, she began, "Well, one of Slippy's inventions that Anthracite uses are his rolling security drones. They look like big peppershakers with tiny little wheels on the bottom. They're equipped with two machine pistols each, and they're heavily armored. But because this was one of Slippy's inventions, he dropped a flaming turd on the project and left the drones with a crippling weakness."

"Which is?"

"Stairs."

Hartmann snickered, if only for a second. Incredulous, he asked Katt, "What? He designed a killer robot and forgot to think about how to make it go up stairs?"

"That's Slippy for you," Katt replied, her face plastered with a cheesy grin. "Boss didn't really take to any of his other ideas, though. Mostly, he thought they were a waste of time and resources. I think that's why he fired him. Well, apart from him being unbelievably clumsy and unable to keep his guard up for more than two seconds." She stopped for a moment, then added, "Well, now that I think of it, Slippy actually did design a bipedal loader for the warehouse. I don't think there's any point in mentioning it, but it was one of his ideas."

Hartmann narrowed his eyes. "A bipedal loader? It couldn't be used as a weapons platform, could it?"

"Weapons…platform?" Fox asked, parroting the question.

Giving Fox an odd glance, Hartmann returned his attention to Katt and elaborated on his question. "I'm just a bit concerned that it could be used as a weapon against us. Maybe it's just me picturing it as some kind of combat robot."

"Combat…robot?"

Upon hearing Fox mime his question for the second time, Hartmann turned his entire body in the vulpine's direction and raised an eyebrow. "Could you do me a favor?"

Fox shrugged. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Can you please stop metal gearing?"

"Metal…Gear?¹"

Silence fell over the factory floor. For several seconds, Hartmann covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head. Finally, after seething in frustration for nearly half a minute, he blinked repeatedly and then returned his attention to Katt.

"Right. Moving on. What do you know about chemical weapons? Where are they taking them?"

A more serious expression appeared on Katt's face. "Hell if I know. You obviously know the boss has 'em, though. Your guess is as good as mine. They don't like to talk about that stuff—trying to keep a low profile and all that."

"Makes sense," replied Hartmann. "Is there _anything_ useful that you know about Anthracite that we don't?"

Katt responded by pointing a finger at the husky. "Look—I'm just a hired gun who's in it for the money. As I said, I just work on cars and shoot people who get in my way. The only reason I joined Anthracite to begin with is because the PMC my boyfriend is in is furcist."

"I don't think that's a word," Fox commented.

"No one asked you, foxy boy. What I mean is that they wouldn't let me join unless I got rid of my fur dye. What a pile of crap—my BF is _blue_. He's a freaking _blue hawk._ How the hell is that supposed to work? Yet, they let him in while I had to go to Wolf to make ends meet."

For the first time in the interrogation session, Fox usurped Hartmann's role. "Hey, Katt—I've got a question for you. It's a serious one."

"Yeah?" Katt replied, quizzically tilting her head.

"Did you see anyone bring a red vixen into the base?"

Katt looked away from Fox and tapped her chin with her finger. "I did, actually. They took her to the lower level brig. Is she someone you know?"

"More or less," Fox answered. "We need to get her out of there."

"Well, good luck with that, 'cause it ain't going to happen."

Fox grimaced and crossed his arms. "We'll see about that."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

While Fox took over probing Katt for details about the Anthracite base and how Scarlet could possibly be rescued, Hartmann crept back into the garage, hoping to avoid being spotted by Lucas while he operated on Krystal's leg. He had a feeling that the jackal wanted to be left alone due to the semi-invasive nature of the medical procedure, but figured that he would not mind having his leader in the room with him as long as he avoided interfering with his work.

To Hartmann's disappointment, Lucas picked up on his presence the instant he entered the area. Turning his head towards the source of the disturbance, the canid chided Hartmann. "I thought I told you to stay out of here while I operated on her."

"I got bored," Hartmann countered. "How's the surgery going?"

Lucas sighed. "I've had to put her under. I tried applying local anesthesia to her leg, but she wouldn't calm down. I should be able to get this bullet out of her leg and keep her alive now that her heart rate has dropped."

"That's good to hear. When will she wake up?"

"If you were wanting to get that information out of her today, you'd better plan to do it later. I'll be finished up here soon enough, but she won't be ready to talk until tomorrow morning at the earliest." He paused, then asked, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Hartmann glanced at Krystal's resting form. "Yeah, she really is. Can't say I've ever seen one of her kind before. Well, apart from you, at least."

Lucas shook his head. "She's full-blooded—I'm not. There aren't many people like her, especially around these parts."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Hartmann, crossing his arms and moving towards his teammate.

The jackal looked over his shoulder. "Some Cerinians have interesting abilities. Most of them are empaths to some degree—like me—but there are a few that can read minds with almost no effort."

Surprise revealed itself on Hartmann's face. "It's a shame you didn't end up with that ability."

Lucas looked back at Krystal. He lowered his voice. "Yeah. It is a shame.² It doesn't work well on other Cerinians, though. At least, that's what I've heard."

When Hartmann said nothing in return, Lucas picked up his set of small pliers and began sliding them into the incision that he had made in Krystal's skin earlier. However, he stopped and pulled them out a moment later. He turned towards Hartmann and adopted a concerned expression. "Did you ever think about what we're going to do with her?"

Hartmann gave his muzzle a pensive stroke. "I've actually had that on my mind ever since we got back. I guess it kind of depends on how much she's willing to tell us. I hate to say it, but it might be best to put her down after we're finished with her."

Judging from his posture and mannerisms, Lucas did not like that idea. "You know my beliefs, my friend. I cannot condone murder when other options exist. Wouldn't General Pepper or General O'Donoghue in Corneria have an interest in her since she's a spy for East Fortuna?"

"Really, Lucas – do you think she'll have anything else to say to them that she won't have told us already?"

"You're right," he admitted. "But at least by turning her over, we wouldn't have to kill her."

"I admire your respect for her life—and _all_ life, really. I mean that. But if we turn her over to Corneria, she'll end up in a prison somewhere; and then after a few years, she'll be let out with a camera following her every movement every day for the rest of her life. I honestly think the lethal injection would be a kinder option here," Hartmann replied.

As he shook his head, Lucas's long, black ears rotated and fell flat against his skull. "Maybe we should let Fox make that decision for us."

"Why? Don't tell me her feminine charms got to you," Hartmann scoffed.

"This has nothing to do with that. Maybe I'm holding out false hope for her, but I want her to have a chance to live a real life. She's evidently not a very good spy."

Hartmann took a long, drawn out breath, then replied, "I'll talk it over with Fox."

"Thank you," said Lucas.

\- § -

The hours dragged past until night fell over Golstave. Having removed the bullet from Krystal's leg and cleaned up her wound, Lucas lifted her off the table and placed her body on the floor with her back pressed against the back wall inside the garage. The vixen groaned when he set her down, but made no other sounds as she slept, oblivious to the world around her thanks to the power of anesthesia. Lucas figured that she would wake up at some point during the night, so after resting her body against the wall, he tied her hands and feet together, but not tightly enough to cause discomfort.

Stepping back, he gazed at Krystal's sleeping form until Hartmann prodded his shoulder and handed him a white blanket intended for Krystal. Lucas nodded and took the cotton sheet, then draped it over Krystal's body. Meanwhile, Fox and Katt wandered back into the garage, having wrapped up the easy interrogation several hours ago. With nothing else to do until the next day, both of them sought out places to sleep. First, however, Fox had business to attend to.

Watching Katt climb into one of the vans and close the door behind her, Hartmann folded his arms and turned to Fox, who walked towards him. "So, did she tell you anything else?"

"A few things," Fox replied. "Mostly details about Anthracite's base. I'll go over them with you before we head there. We mostly just talked about her joining my team, though. She's into it, but I'm going to need to make sure she's qualified enough to work for me."

Hartmann nodded. "It's been a good day, hasn't it? Apart from the firefight in the warehouse, I'm having a hard time believing the incredible luck we've had so far."

Fox's eyes fell. "I'm still worried about Scarlet. I hope she's okay."

The husky's eyes softened. "Don't worry about it too much, Fox. She's a tough vixen. We'll rescue her—I promise."

As much as Fox wanted to believe Hartmann, his words came as cold comfort to him. Mumbling a response and stating his intent to turn in for the night, Fox walked towards one of the vans and opened the sliding rear door. Climbing in, he took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles, then closed the side door as quietly as possible. With all the doors and windows shut, the noise in Fox's ears dropped to a whisper. He heard hints of Hartmann's boots on the concrete floor, but nothing else. He prepared to lie down in the back, but then he spotted both his and Scarlet's suitcases near the rear hatch.

 _"I was wondering what happened to those."_

Just then, a faint 'beep' emanated from inside Scarlet's suitcase. Reaching into the back of the van, he pulled her bag forward and placed it on his lap. He unzipped the top of the suitcase, revealing Scarlet's extra clothes – virtually all catsuits and skimpy lingerie – and her smartphone. He felt guilty about it, but after checking the van for any occupants, he picked up the phone and pressed the power button on the side. The lock screen appeared, prompting him to enter a five-digit code before he could be granted access.

He all but gave up on trying to access the device, but the specific number of digits on the lock screen gave him an idea for the code.

 _"If this works, Scarlet's going to hit a new all-time low with me."_

Shaking his head, he tapped in '42069' on the keyboard. To both his amazement and dismay, the code worked, and the lock screen disappeared. He noticed an orange number '1' above the text messaging icon near the bottom of the screen, and he clicked on it to reveal a wall of contacts that Scarlet had recently associated with. Fox had the feeling that he did not want to know who most of them were. However, the contact at the top of the list – named 'Mom' – displayed one unread text. Beside the name was a small picture of a youthful-looking leopardess wearing a leather catsuit similar to the ones that Scarlet preferred.

As he opened the string of texts between Scarlet and her stepmother, a wall of sorrowful nostalgia hit him. The memory of his own mother came to his mind; and even though he knew that Scarlet had suffered tremendous abuse at the hands of her birth parents, he envied the fact that she had two living stepparents who cared enough to check up on her from time to time.

His eyes scanned the text, sent only a minute ago. As he did, his eyes became misty, and his concern for Scarlet's safety revealed itself.

 _"Hey sweetheart, it's been awhile since you visited. Do you think you could stop by anytime soon? Your dad's taken up some new hobbies, and I think he wants you to see what he's been up to. But, if you're too busy, I respect that."_

Sighing, Fox tapped on the screen and wrote a simple response. _"I might be able to do that. I'll let you know later."_ Then, he hung his head and cursed himself for ever allowing Scarlet to be kidnapped, even though he knew that he likely would have been killed if he had stayed in the hotel room with her.

A moment later, Scarlet's stepmother replied to Fox's text, but he tried his best to ignore it and powered the phone off to save the battery. Tossing it back into Scarlet's perfume-scented suitcase, he zipped up the bag and placed it in the back of the van where he had found it. Then, he laid flat on the van's floor and closed his eyes. Exhausted from the day's events, sleep fell upon him within a few short minutes.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:  
_

1 The first of many Metal Gear references in _Sierra Foxtrot_.

2 _(Insert Ganondorf laugh here)_


	10. The Van On Fire

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 6: The Van on Fire_

 _Chapter 9_

After a rough night filled with nightmares related to worst-case scenarios regarding Scarlet's situation, Fox awoke in the back of Onyx's van. Under normal circumstances, he would have struggled to get up after such a poor night of sleep, but because real life offered him more of an escape from his pain than his dreams did, he brushed off any thoughts of going back to sleep. Turning around and opening the van's side door, he stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the lunch table.

He noticed Krystal, still seated with her back to the wall. However, this time, her spirit looked hopelessly and irrepressibly crushed. She kept her head lowered to her chest and refused to make a sound. Meanwhile, Hartmann and Lucas chatted amongst themselves at the table. Their serious, quiet voices suggested to Fox that their conversation centered either on Krystal's secrets or on the upcoming mission. Not wanting to intrude on them, he leaned against the side of the van and looked on.

However, Hartmann happened to glance over his shoulder and notice him. Breaking the conversation, he motioned for Fox to join them. Just then, Katt emerged from the main factory floor area with a silly grin on her muzzle. "Guys – you're not going to believe what Slippy did to himself."

Lucas immediately cringed. "Oh no."

Approaching the lunch table, Fox looked towards Katt and asked, "What did he do?"

"You're going to have to see it to believe it. I knew he'd need a disguise if he wanted to get into the base without reminding people of himself, but he took it to another level."

Just then, a new sound entered the garage. The noise contained a faint squeak, combined with the purr of an electric motor and the whirring sound of wheels. "Oh! Here he comes!" Katt squealed, looking out of the garage and trying not to keel over in laughter. A moment later, a wheelchair rolled into the garage.

Fox tried not to laugh, but he – along with Hartmann and Katt – failed miserably. Although he struggled to keep his eyes focused on the source of the uproar, he managed to get a good look at Slippy and his ridiculous creation. The amphibian sat in a metal-flake blue wheelchair replete with chrome rims. An odd-looking implement jutted out from the back, and for the moment, Fox had no concept of what it did. But Slippy himself instigated far more laughter than his 'swag chair' did. Covered from head to toe with blue and black paint to make himself look like a poison arrow tree frog, he bore almost no resemblance his normal self.

A silver bike helmet¹ with blue flames completed his ludicrous disguise, which contained the black shirt and black cargo pants that he had been wearing beforehand, in addition to a tacky pair of dark sunglasses.

Amidst bursts of laughter, Fox gasped, "Slippy! What the…?"

Before Fox had the chance to finish his question, Slippy interrupted with a sensuous, baritone voice that caused everyone in the room to become silent out of mere shock.² "I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is. I'm Skidd – Skidd Marx, that is. I'm here to give your computers my – shall we say – 'special touch'. You knoooow they want it."

"Kill me," Lucas lamented.

Seated next to the jackal on the bench, Hartmann clapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "It'll be over soon enough. Just hang in there, buddy."

While Fox, Katt, and Hartmann struggled to contain themselves, Lucas groaned. Finding little to laugh about, he folded his arms and stood up. "What does that idiotic wheelchair do?"

Skidd suddenly leaped out of the wheelchair and held out his hands as if to give Lucas a warning. "Look what you've done now. You've offended it!"

In front of the group's eyes, the wheelchair brandished its arm-like rear appendage and brought it forward. Only then did they realize that it contained a small missile launcher. Lucas growled in frustration, refusing to believe that he had actually managed to anger a wheelchair, of all things.

Then, the machine played a hoarse, robotic voice clip. _"Suck my missile, punk."_

"No! Don't do it, D-Wheelchair!³" Skidd protested, jumping in front of the chair and waving his stubby blue arms about.

The wheelchair froze. Then, it retracted its missile launcher and replied, "Command accepted, O Glorious Exalted Supreme Master of the Circuit Board."

Fox pictured lines of unamused bystanders performing a long, slow golf clap in the garage. "D-Wheelchair? What's that supposed to mean?"

In the same low voice that he had introduced himself with (and never abandoned, for that matter), Skidd purred, "It's a mystery, just like me and my magic touch that can turn a floppy disk into a hard drive with just one swipe of the hand."

Lucas momentarily considered grabbing the handgun out of Hartmann's belt holster and shooting himself. "Please, Fox – make him shut up. I might not be a pacifist for much longer."

Finding Slippy's blue alter ego nearly as annoying as Lucas did, he nodded at the jackal and walked towards Skidd. "Slippy, can you tone it down a bit? This is really ridiculous. I think you took it too far this time."

The amphibian placed his hands on his hips and announced, "Skidd Marx don't break no character!"

"All right, then. This is happening now," Fox huffed, marching over to D-Wheelchair and gripping one of its chrome wheel covers. To Skidd's chagrin, he tugged on it and ripped it clean off the rim. Throwing it across the room, he marched around to the other wheel and did the same. After disposing of the garish covers, he glared at Skidd and demanded, "Take off that ridiculous helmet. Why would you need that for a wheelchair?"

Slippy's voice returned to normal. "Because it's a high performance wheelchair."

"Listen, Slippy. This is a serious operation we're about to start. If you're not going to take it seriously, I'm going to make you stay here and wait for us to finish."

"Fox, Please do that," Lucas pleaded.

"Ignore him," Fox continued. "I know you need a disguise so Anthracite will let you into the base, but you've got to tone it down. Can you do that?"

Slippy unlatched his helmet and nodded, albeit with a disappointed face. "Sure thing, Fox."

Fox turned his back on Slippy and walked back to the lunch table while the frog scooted out of the garage in his wheelchair and disappeared into the main factory. As he neared the table, his eyes wandered towards Krystal. He could tell that she was awake and alert, but her body language made her seem almost comatose. Although Lucas had cleaned her wound after removing the bullet from her leg, a sizeable blood stain covered the lower part of her purple dress. He stared at her for several seconds, assuming that she couldn't have cared less about him admiring her. Then, to his surprise, she opened her eyes and focused them on him. He looked away and glanced at Hartmann, only for his ears to pick up on the woman's voice.

Except that his ears heard nothing at all – her voice seemed to penetrate straight to his mind.

 _"Please – don't let the husky kill me. I know he wants to do it. If you help me, I promise that I'll do anything you want me to. You can trust me, Fox."_

Trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, he turned his head towards Krystal and stared at her as if he had encountered a supernatural being. "Are you a telepath?" he asked, using his thoughts and directing them towards her.

Krystal replied with a faint nod. _"Don't tell the others."  
_

Fox frowned. "Why should I do what you want? You tried to have me assassinated, and Scarlet's in Anthracite's base right now because of you. I know you'll turn on me if I give you any leeway."

Physically, Krystal curled up into a fetal position and hid her eyes from the world, while in her thoughts, she broadcasted a sorrowful message to Fox. _"My leader abandoned me. I don't have anywhere to go anymore. The husky is going to kill me – I can feel it in his thoughts. You're the only person who can do anything to stop him."_

"What do you want me to do about it?"

 _"Can you take me with you when you leave this place?"_ Krystal pleaded.

Fox looked away from her and folded his arms. "I'll have to think about it."

Sighing, he turned his attention towards the three people seated around the table. Still in shock after discovering Krystal's disturbing ability, he zoned out for a moment. That is, until Hartmann addressed him. "What's on your mind, Fox? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh…I, um…" Fox jumped, scratching the back of his head. "I was just wondering what was going to happen to Krystal."

Hartmann looked across the table at Lucas, then stood up and whispered into Fox's ear, "Lucas doesn't want to do it, but I was planning to kill her. We got all of her information out earlier this morning, and she's just going to become a problem if we don't do anything about her. I reason that it's better to kill her than to turn her into the authorities. She'll be less miserable that way. I say that one quick shot to the head is a lot kinder than years of torture behind bars in a Cornerian black site. You know how those intelligence agencies can be when they're not dealing with their own people. Still, I told Lucas that I'd leave it up to you."

Fox admitted that his host had a logical point. For a moment, he wondered if he would have come to the same conclusion if he had been in Hartmann's boots. Nevertheless, something about the feverish pitch of Krystal's internal voice stabbed something soft inside of him. He hesitated for an awkward moment when he felt the sensation of Krystal's distress inside his mind. Then, he told Hartmann, "I'll take her with me when I leave Katina – assuming the Anthracite job goes well."

Hartmann looked at Fox like he had lost his mind. "You do know that she's been trying to kill you, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she's much of a threat right now. Just look at her. Not only that, but her boss pretty much left her to die, if you remember."

"Possibly," Hartmann admitted, before a thought occurred to him. "Hold on." Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, "Katt, you're needed here!"

A matter of seconds later, the feline emerged from the main factory floor area. "What's the problem this time?"

"I've got a question," Hartmann replied, walking towards her. He pointed at Krystal with his right hand. "When Anthracite deployed you to the warehouse to kill us, were you supposed to kill her, too?"

Katt glanced at the bound vixen, who looked back. She crossed her arms. "The order was to kill everyone. It wasn't more specific than that."

Upon hearing this, Krystal gazed at the floor. At the same time, a feral snarl emanated from her mouth. _"That wanker,"_ she mouthed.

Mildly surprised, Hartmann nodded his head. "All right, then. Well, Fox, maybe you're right after all. Still, what do you plan on doing with her?"

Fox shrugged and replied, "I'll figure something out. I'm going to take one thing at a time for right now."

"All right – if you say so," Hartmann chuckled. "Good luck with her, Fox. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her—although that might be a long way, actually."

Fox rolled his eyes while the husky turned his back and walked towards one of the vans. Out of the corner of his vision, he noticed Krystal and looking at him. He noticed the gentle, grateful expression on her lips, then heard her mental approval of his actions. _"Thank you, Fox. I promise that you can trust me."_

"I hope so," Fox stoically replied. His eyes lingered on the vixen's figure for an extra moment, eventually fixing themselves on the large blood stain that covered the lower part of her dress.

Noticing where Fox's gaze had landed, she mentally asked him, _"By any chance, do you have any extra clothes you could give me to wear? This dress is disgusting."_

Fox's thoughts drifted to Scarlet's suitcase in the back of Onyx's second van; and as much as he liked the idea of seeing Krystal wearing one of Scarlet's catsuits, he had the feeling that she would be less than thrilled about the prospect of slipping into one even though her current outfit was caked in dried blood. "There are some clothes in Scarlet's suitcase, but almost all of them are catsuits. I don't think you'd want to wear those."

Krystal flashed him a devious grin. _"You might be surprised. Can you carry me to the van?"_

Fox knew both Lucas and Hartmann would rebuke him for his actions, but in his mind, he saw no harm in letting Krystal change out of her soiled clothes. He stepped towards Krystal and picked her off the ground, prompting Hartmann to turn around in his seat and bark, "Hey! What are you doing?"

"I'm taking her to the van so she can put on some clean clothes," Fox replied.

Hartmann shook his head. "If you're going to do that, you've got to get into the van with her. I am _not_ going to risk even the slightest chance of her pulling a crowbar or something out of the back and trying to escape with it. You hear me?"

"I understand," Fox replied. Still surprised by how little Krystal weighed, he reached the second van and pulled the side door open. He placed her on the floor inside the vehicle and closed the door before crawling into the back of the van where Scarlet's suitcase rested. Wrestling the heavy bag into the area behind the front seats, he turned his attention to Krystal and looked into her eyes. "I'm going to untie you so you can get changed. Please don't do anything that would make me change my mind about taking you with me."

"I won't."

Holding his breath and hoping that Krystal would keep her word, Fox untied the ropes holding her hands and feet together. The instant the twine fell from her limbs, she stretched on the floor and let out a deep, pleasurable breath. She feathered the hem of her dress and crossed her arms, but stopped when she noticed Fox averting his eyes.

"Fox. Haven't you seen my pictures on the internet? I'm pretty sure you don't need to look away. Besides, I'm wearing my underwear today."

Fox's ears turned red. "I was just trying to be respectful."

"How kind of you," Krystal replied with a smile, grabbing the bottom of her dress and pulling it over her head. She tossed the blood-stained garment into the back of the van, then set to work unzipping Scarlet's suitcase. With the zipper opened, she folded over the top of the suitcase and peered inside. "Oh dear, you were right about the catsuits," she laughed. "Does she wear these all the time?"

"Pretty much," Fox replied, trying to mask the frustration in his voice that came from the knowledge of Krystal's complicity in Scarlet's capture.

Krystal pretended not to notice said frustration and dug through the contents of Scarlet's suitcase until her hand latched onto something. "I wonder what these are for?" she teased, holding up a mostly-empty package of AA batteries.

Fox cringed. "You might want to be careful where you put your hands in there."

"It's too late for that," Krystal groaned. "I should have just pulled out the first catsuit that I saw." Shaking her head, she pulled out a stretchy garment that matched her fur color. To Fox's surprise, when she held it up, he noticed that unlike Scarlet's normal catsuits, this one lacked a turtleneck collar. Instead, it sported a plunging neckline designed to reveal a substantial part of the wearer's chest, thereby making it even more provocative than Scarlet's usual attire.

Fox had no time to dissuade Krystal from trying it on as she wriggled into the blue catsuit and then pulled on the matching blue boots that went with it. Although it proved to be difficult, she managed to reach the tiny zipper in the back and seal herself into the taut-fitting suit without Fox's help. With her work completed, she zipped up Scarlet's suitcase again and leaned against the van's side door. "I look ridiculous, don't I?

"Not as much as you think," Fox replied. "I have a hard time picturing Scarlet wearing that, but it works on you. Just keep in mind that everyone is going to be staring at you when you leave the van."

"Everyone stares at me anyway. It's part of the curse of having naturally blue fur and being allergic to one of the main ingredients in fur dye," Krystal countered. "Hey – this feels comfortable. It's like wearing a glove. I think I could get used to this. Do you know where I could get one of these?"

"I don't think I want to know," Fox replied before he changed the subject. "I'm going to have to tie you up again so you can't try to escape while we take care of business with Anthracite. Sorry—I still don't trust you enough. I'll be back for you in a few hours, though."

Krystal looked back at him with a pair of fearful eyes. "What if you don't make it back?"

"I hate to say it, but you'll probably starve to death if we all die, or you'll be killed if I die and Hartmann makes it through. So…you'd better hope that I make it back."

He felt a tremor of fear shoot through his mind and recognized it as Krystal's fear, not his own.

"I've had a pretty good run so far, though," he suggested, hoping to comfort her. "I'm not worried. The guys in Onyx are good, and I've dealt with tougher situations than this before."

"If you say so, Fox," Krystal whispered.

Fox reached for the ropes that Krystal had discarded, then tied her hands and feet together. He hated to do it, but he – and everyone else in the factory – knew that if she was allowed to roam freely, she would eventually find a way to escape. With the vixen bound, he opened the van and climbed out, carrying her in his arms. Hartmann stole a glance at her and raised an eyebrow as Fox carried her back to her position behind the lunch table.

When Fox had finished setting Krystal down, Hartmann called out to him. "It's nine, Fox. We've only got an hour until the IT tech is scheduled to arrive at Anthracite's base. The base itself is a thirty minute drive from here, so we need to hurry. Lucas, Katt, and Slippy will take the second van while we take the first up to the IT tech's current location. We're going to do a bit of sabotage to keep him from getting to the base. After that, we'll all pile into Lucas's van and use that one to get into the facility."

Lucas looked up from the table in front of him and spoke, "Anthracite is smart enough to see through that. They're probably going to check the back of the van for suspicious cargo the instant we get into the base. Do you have any plans for that?"

Hartmann answered without hesitation. "I considered that, and I've got an idea. While Fox and I sabotage the IT tech's van, you and everyone else head to the nearest office supercenter and ask them for the largest cardboard boxes they've got. After we meet up, we'll hide inside the boxes – which you'll tape up, of course. After you get into the base with Slippy and Katt, you and Slippy need to make sure that the boxes get brought into the base with a hand truck. Say something like 'They've got important equipment in them that we need to do our work' or something generic but kind of believable like that."

"It's not a _terrible_ idea," Lucas conceded. "I'm still worried about Slippy, though. There's no way they'll recognize him, but he still has me worried."

"If I'm honest, I'm worried too," Hartmann replied, crossing his arms. "It's something we'll have to get around, though."

The jackal gave his leader a grim nod, then looked over his shoulder at Krystal. "What about her?"

"Fox told me to leave her alive," said Hartmann. "Shoot her full of anesthesia before we leave so she won't be able to do anything until we get back. That should take care of that problem."

Lucas nodded and moved in the direction of his medical kit, currently positioned on a workbench mounted on the garage area's leftmost wall.

Fox noticed Hartmann climbing into the first van and jogged towards the vehicle while the husky started the engine and pressed a button on his overhead visor that opened the garage door behind him. Fox opened the side door, then climbed in and clipped in his seatbelt. Hartmann reversed the van out of the factory and onto the mostly silent road that ran in front of it. Closing the garage door, he accelerated the van to its cruising speed and exhaled.

At the first red light that he encountered, he wasted no time in entering the IT tech's address into the van's GPS system. The touchscreen froze for two seconds, then displayed a relatively straight route that estimated their time of arrival as 9:20. "We're only going to have about a five minute window of opportunity to sabotage the tech's van," he warned Fox.

Fox looked back at him. "What are we going to do? And who's going to do what?"

The traffic light turned green. After reaching the posted speed limit, Hartmann reached behind him and produced a set of heavy-duty bolt cutters. "One of us is going to get under the van and sever the wire leading from the battery to the starter solenoid. Whoever isn't doing that needs to loiter near the tech's front door and pester him if he comes out prematurely. It shouldn't take long, so there's no need to strike up a big conversation with him."

"I'm not that great with car parts," Fox admitted. "You'd better handle that part of it."

"Fair enough. You make sure that he stays detained if he leaves his office before we're ready."

"Got it. Something about this just doesn't feel right, though."

Hartmann gave Fox a faint smile. "I take it that you're not used to doing mercenary work that involves taking jobs outside of the battlefield." Fox shook his head, prompting Hartmann to add, "There's tons of freelance work out there, but most mercs will never find it because it looks too much like the work of a petty thief or an outlaw."

"Hmph. Now I think I know how Scarlet was able to keep a steady stream of jobs while I struggled to find my next big contract," Fox mumbled.

"She's an interesting one, isn't she?" asked Hartmann.

"You're telling me. Half the time, I want to strangle her; and the other half of the time, I start to think that she's actually fun to be around. Then she'll inevitably do something to piss me off again."

"You two would make a fun couple," Hartmann suggested.

A flash of anger appeared in Fox's eyes. "I hate it when people say that. Everywhere we go together, people call her my girlfriend. What makes it worse is that she doesn't care."

"That doesn't sound like a problem to me. I think all those people just realize that you two were made for each other."

Fox bit his lip and arched his eyebrows in response to Hartmann's comment.

The canine asked, "Do you have something against her? I mean, if our lines of work weren't completely incompatible, I probably would have married that girl by now. She makes everything interesting."

"I don't think Scarlet could ever get married. She's allergic to dresses," Fox scoffed.

"Well, I guess then she'd have to find a white catsuit to wear. It would be an interesting wedding, that's for sure. But in all seriousness, what don't you like about her? Did she do something to hurt you?"

The memory of the previous year's Christmas get-together came to Fox's mind, forcing him to wade through the mire of oppressive thoughts that he would have much rather left buried forever – notably, the hilariously inopportune timing of his attempt to propose to Fara. "I don't like to talk about this, but Scarlet did something at the end of last year that kept me from talking to her until she convinced me to take a job with her a few days ago."

"What was it? Go on – I won't tell anybody."

Fox took a deep breath, suppressing some of his resentment towards Scarlet. "I was planning to propose to my fiancée Fara in front of the tree last Christmas morning, but when we walked into the living room, I found Scarlet – who my dad invited without telling me – sitting under the tree wearing wrapping ribbons and holiday bows with a tag hanging from her ear that said 'OPEN ME.' She completely ruined the moment, humiliated me in front of Fara, and made my entire day miserable. They both denied it, but I think she and my dad were conspiring to keep me from proposing to Fara. It wasn't any of their business to do that, and it makes me angry to this day."

Hartmann could tell that Fox found his Christmas story less than humorous, but despite his best efforts, a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Man, I'd open that present in a heartbeat." When Fox shot him a hateful, venomous glare, he apologized and added, "But I agree – if your dad and Scarlet set that up to keep you from proposing, that was out of line. But does your dad usually do things like that?"

"What are you getting at?" Fox barked.

"I'm suggesting that he may have known something that you didn't – or something that you wouldn't hear him out on. When I married my late wife Jaclyn, her parents flat out told her that they would do anything they could to keep us from tying the knot. Knowing what I know now, they were actually right to do that. The reason they tried to keep us from getting married is because they knew the suffering and heartache each of us would have to endure if one of us was killed in action. They didn't want their daughter to marry a mercenary, and after having to live without her for over a year, I finally realized that they had a point. I never should have married her, but I was too in love with her to think straight."

Fox sighed and looked out the side window. "Now that you said that, Fara's parents weren't happy about her wanting to marry me, either. My dad seemed okay with it, but I could always tell that there was something about her that he didn't like. That's why I think he's been trying to bring Scarlet back into my life."

Hartmann shook his head and grinned. "Honestly, that is not something I'd complain about." His voice suddenly became more serious. "Since we're still a few minutes out, maybe you'd like to know what we learned from Krystal."

Fox's ears swiveled in his direction. "Absolutely. First things first—is her boss's name Rafa Ortega?"

Hartmann looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Dead on. You know him?"

"He was an old teammate of mine. I suspected that he might have been behind my old teammates' deaths, and now I know it's true."

"Damn," said Hartmann, shaking his head. "That's one hell of a betrayal. What makes it even worse is that he had to have been working behind the scenes for over a year before he finally tried to off you."

Fox's visage reflected a resolve of steel. "I'm not going to let him get away with this. Not after what happened at Northpoint."

His vision focused on the road ahead, Hartmann continued his exposition. "Rafa's not the power broker here, though. That would be someone else in his family named 'Christina.' She's the one with the cash and the influence to bankroll his operation. Krystal said Christina doesn't get out much and prefers to stay hidden. Don't let that fool you, though. She's behind just about every detail of the East Fortunan rebellion."

Fox bit his lip and looked out the van's right side window. "Did you find out what East Fortuna even wants?"

"Yes," replied Hartmann, grave concern in his voice. "It's more serious than how the scope of the rebellion makes it look. Did you pay attention in history class?"

"No. Why?"

"This goes back a long way," Hartmann explained. "Basically, before Corneria became the powerhouse it is today, Macbeth ruled the world for all intents and purposes. It was the biggest empire the world has ever seen. They controlled the country we're in right now, and their power reached across the ocean to northern Corneria and the eastern part of Fortuna. Northpoint was the capital of the Western Macbeth Empire. Makes a bit more sense why they'd want to take it back, huh? Anyway, from what Krystal told me, Rafa and his kingmaker Christina have been trying to put the pieces into place for a new Macbeth Empire. Macbeth and East Fortuna are allies already, and pro-Macbeth ideas are starting to creep into Titanian politics."

Fox curled the corner of his mouth. "So, what I am supposed to do about that?"

Hartmann cast him an assuring gaze. "Right now, the goal is to sabotage this IT tech's van so we can get into Anthracite's base and put trackers on their planes. That's a first step. Of course, I'm also going to make sure the Cornerian higher-ups find out about everything I just told you." Upon finishing his statement, he put on his left blinker and slowed down.

"We're here. Get ready."

Fox looked up as Hartmann turned off the road and into a small parking lot in front of a multiplex building that contained more than ten different small businesses and private offices. Four cars sat in the parking lot, positioned too close to the road for comfort. Of the four vehicles, Fox spotted only one van. Nevertheless, he struggled to understand why any self-respecting IT tech would ever drive around in such a distasteful vehicle. The van sported a light blue paint job with searing yellow and orange flames covering the hood and the door areas.⁴

"Is that the van?"

"Yep. That's it," Hartmann replied. "Part of the reason I'm glad Slippy built a wheelchair is because this IT specialist also uses one."

"Does his also have a missile launcher?"

"Not quite."⁵

Fox's eyes widened. "Not quite?"

"Trust me – you don't want to find out. If we do this right, we won't have to. All right – I'm going to park in front of the van and crawl under it from the back. That should attract less attention to us."

"You'd better be quick with the bolt cutters, Hartmann," Fox cautioned. "You couldn't have picked a worse place to do this. There's a huge shopping outlet right across the street from here. Someone's going to see you no matter how you do this."

"But no one will be able to do anything about it if I move quickly enough," Hartmann replied. "Okay – it's go time."

Stepping on the brakes, he parked the van in front of the tech's hideous vehicle in such a way that anyone on the first floor of the nearby building complex would be unable to see past the black van. He leaped out with bolt cutters in hand and rounded the front of his van, then dropped to the ground and started crawling underneath the tech's vehicle. "Fox! Start walking towards his office! It's on the right side of the building – first floor."

Fox climbed out of the black van and tentatively approached the nearby gray building, noting the numerous signs and names above each of the suite doors. _"Fresh Cutz Salon, Madame Camellia Palm and Tarot, Fort Brinks Lock & Key, Royce⁶ – IT Specialist._ There it is." As the seconds ticked by and his feet neared the specialist's front door, his heart rate increased. He imagined the glass-fronted door opening in front of him and pictured the IT tech demanding that Fox move the van out of the way of his vehicle – or worse, asking him why the van was parked there to begin with.

When he stepped to within ten feet of the door, he heard a snipping sound behind him. "Come on – let's go!" Hartmann shouted.

Trying to avoid looking overly suspicious, Fox turned around and broke into a brisk walk. He avoided looking over his shoulder even though he wanted nothing more than to do just that. He looked at Hartmann's van and noticed that the husky had taken the passenger seat, ostensibly so he could re-enter the van without running into the open with a set of blood red bolt cutters. As he neared the black van, Fox knew in his mind that the office door would open behind him. Still, he refused to look back. Gripping the door handle, he jumped into the driver's seat and shifted the van into gear. As he drove past the IT tech's office, the door swung open. He knew better than to make eye contact with the tech, so he looked past Hartmann out the right side window in time to pick out a police car among the swarm of pedestrian vehicles.

"That was way too close," Hartmann admitted. "I'm sorry I made you come with me on this."

"Nah – it's fine. We got the job done, and we didn't get stopped. The one thing that I'm worried about is that the tech is going to call Anthracite when he finds out that he can't start his van. If he reschedules with them and we show up pretending to associated with him, our cover will be blown."

Hartmann put his bolt cutters in the footwell in front of him and leaned back in his seat. "That's not going to happen. You see, Anthracite doesn't take too well to setbacks and cancelations. That tech will be pissing himself trying to get his van to start, let alone telling Anthracite that he's going to be late. As long as we move quickly inside the base, we should be fine." He paused, then said, "Now it's time to meet up with the others to switch vehicles. Are you ready for this, Fox?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 "Skidd's" ridiculous wheelchair rig was largely inspired by Bentley from the Sly Cooper series.

2 Skidd's voice was envisioned as sounding similar to Barry White's.

3 This is a reference to _Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain._ Every sidekick "buddy" in the game not named Quiet has a "D-" modifier in front of its name, such as D-Horse, D-Dog, and D-Walker.

4 It's Murray's van from the Sly Cooper series.

5 This is a reference to the sleep dart launcher built into Bentley's "turbochair."

6 Royce is a stand-in for Bentley of the Sly Cooper series. Obviously, his name is taken from the Rolls-Royce auto company.


	11. Into The Darkness

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 7: Into The Darkness  
_

 _Chapter 10_

Fox pulled off the avenue and entered the sprawling parking lot in front of an office supercenter decorated with red fascia. Amidst the numerous vehicles in the parking lot, he spotted the identical van belonging to Lucas. He navigated through the parking lot, then pulled into the spot next to the van. Leaving the engine running, both he and Hartmann opened their doors and climbed out.

Upon seeing his leader, Lucas jumped out of the other van and opened the back to reveal two oversized cardboard boxes. "There are your boxes," he announced, pointing to the slabs of white cardboard with silver pineapple logos¹ emblazoned on them.

Hartmann sneered. "You had to get the Pineapple boxes, didn't you? What a fanboy. You'll probably be up at five in the morning standing in a mile-long line to buy the new iComm 15S Pro Air when it comes out next week."

"No – I'll be up at five the _previous_ morning to stand in line," Lucas corrected.

"I swear, you Pineapple fanatics are practically a religious cult," Hartmann chuckled. Shaking his head, he reached into the back of the van and pulled the oversized boxes closer to himself. As he did, he revealed Katt, who had seated herself against the left door. "All right, looks like it's time to see if I can fit in here. I'm going to tilt this thing onto its side so you can tape up the bottom. Got it?"

Lucas pulled a tape roller out of a bag and readied it while Hartmann shimmied into the opened box. _"This is ridiculous,"_ he mused. "Taping the box. Now's the time to make sure you didn't leave anything in your van."

"I think I'm good to go," Hartmann replied. "Seal me up."

"Okay…"

With the husky curled up inside the sideways box, Lucas closed the bottom and applied more tape to it than anyone would have thought necessary. Then again, most computer boxes weighed less than 190 pounds, and it most definitely needed the extra reinforcement. Completing his tape job, Lucas grabbed the box and pushed it over. Hartmann grunted from inside his cardboard confines as his weight collided with the van's floor and caused the suspension to vibrate.

"Hey, can you poke some air holes in here?" he joked.

Lucas ignored him and turned to Fox, who was staring at the other Pineapple Computers box. "Do you need to bring anything with you into the base? It _is_ a box after all. You might as well put something in it besides yourself."

Fox stroked his muzzle. "Hmm…I'd better bring a catsuit for Scarlet. She was taking a bath when I left her in the hotel room, so she might have been captured naked."

Hartmann's box shook. "Say _what?"_

"Oh nothing," Fox replied, waving his hand even though he knew Hartmann would never see it. "She's probably dressed now, but if I know her well enough, she's going to want to change into her own clothes at the first chance she gets."

"It's a valid point," said Lucas. "Make it quick, Fox."

Noticing Scarlet's suitcase next to Katt, he motioned for her to hand it to him. The pink feline shoved the heavy bag in Fox's direction, barely missing Hartmann's box. Thanking Katt, Fox unfastened the zipper, then picked his way through the contents of her suitcase with a level of caution that hinted at his fear of accidentally finding a battery-powered 'something' that he expected Scarlet to pack with her luggage. He snatched up the first catsuit that he saw – the gray 'utility' catsuit that she had worn during her initial visit to the Foxfire base – and tossed it into the open box adjacent to Hartmann's. As he closed up the suitcase, Lucas asked him, "Is that really all she wears?"

"Unless she absolutely has to wear something else, the answer is yes. Oh, believe me – I've given up on trying to figure it out for a while now. I don't know why she likes those things so much. Well, maybe it's because all the guys do."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'll never understand men and their runaway libidos.² Now, get into the box. We're in danger of running late."

Fox glanced at his watch and cringed. Only fifteen minutes remained until ten o'clock, and the trip was supposed to take at least twenty minutes based on their current location. He pulled himself into the box with Scarlet's catsuit, which he had to admit smelled incredible. The odd mixture of her own perfume and the catsuit's spandex, polyester and cloth combination stimulated his senses and gave him a faint feeling of euphoria. Seconds later, Lucas taped up the bottom of the box and pushed it over. Fox slammed into the side of the box as it hit the van's cargo floor, but the cardboard held fast and refused to break.

With his world darkened, he listened as the van's double back doors slammed shut. Then, Lucas started the engine and lunged out of the parking lot so aggressively that Fox felt his box slam into the side of the van.

"Hey Lucas – fragile contents back here!" Katt shouted.

"I don't want to hear it! We're late, and you know what happens if we show up late!"

Fox expected Katt to make another snarky comment, but the seriousness of their situation caused a deep, anxious silence to fall over the van. As Lucas meandered through traffic and picked up speed, Fox wondered what would happen if the initial plan hit a snag and required a fallback. No such plan existed, and he had little confidence in his and Hartmann's ability to draw up a replacement plan on the fly.

Even more so, he worried about Krystal. Despite having been subdued by Lucas's anesthesia back at the factory, he worried that she would wake up and find a way to reach out to someone outside the building with her telepathy. In honesty, he wanted her to still be inside the factory when they returned after completing the operation because something about her lit a spark inside of him.

The thought of bringing her onto his team occurred to him, although the optics of hiring a former spy in the employment of his greatest enemy threatened to pump the brakes on that idea in a heartbeat.

" _Her telepathy could be a real asset. I've never seen anything like that before. I mean, if she can fight worth anything, she could give my team the advantage we need—if she can be trusted, that is."_

He felt the van accelerating and deduced that Lucas had pulled onto an interstate. His suspicions were confirmed when the jackal announced, "There are only three exits left until the one that leads to the base. Once we hit the back roads, I'll really be able to open it up and make up some of our lost time."

Despite being inside a box, Fox could feel Lucas's stress at the wheel. All the while, the scent of Scarlet's clothing continued to inundate his senses. The fragrance her catsuit possessed smelled indescribably fresh, which surprised him somewhat.

The van suddenly moved to the right, then stopped at what Fox believed was a traffic light at the top of the exit leading to the base. After waiting for the light to turn green, Lucas turned left and mashed the gas pedal.

Hartmann knew that the back roads north of Golstave were usually not heavily traveled, but he still worried about Lucas's lead-footed driving. Away from the city, the risk of wild animals running into the road increased; and even though it seemed unlikely, any police officers in the area would gravitate to the speeding van the same way that Scarlet reacted to tight, stretchy clothing. His thoughts came to a halt when Lucas threw the van into a tight corner at over sixty miles an hour. He swore that he could feel one of the van's wheels lift off the ground.

"Lucas! Calm it down a little! It's better to be a tiny bit late than to never show up in the first place because you wrecked and killed us all!" Hartmann shouted.

"Fine!" the jackal snarled. "Oh, damn it."³

"What?" Hartmann demanded, the sound of his voice masked by his box.

"There's a police car behind us, and it just turned its lights on. Dammit, dammit, dammit! We're still three miles from the base! I've got to pull over! Of all the times for this to happen, why did it have to be now?"

Hartmann sat in silence, not wanting to incense his driver even further. Gradually, the van rolled to a stop as the sound of a police siren filled the air. When the van had stopped completely, Lucas punched the steering wheel and gritted his teeth. He glanced in his mirror while the police officer climbed out of his car. His grief turned to surprise shortly thereafter. For starters, the police officer was a 'she', and was also a red vixen who bore a disturbing similarity to Scarlet. Instead of a traditional black police uniform, she wore a badly undersized khaki vest over a blue tube top that revealed most of her stomach, along with stretchy blue tights that wouldn't have looked out of place in one of Scarlet's outfits. The only clue that remotely suggested her occupation was the gold badge pinned to her jacket.⁴

"Civilization is doomed if that's what cops are allowed to wear now," Lucas groaned.

In the passenger's seat, Skidd Marx stared at the officer out of Lucas's mirror with some suspicion. "I thought Halloween happened a few weeks ago, because she don't look like a real cop. Well, even if she ain't, she can trick or treat me any time of the year."

"Yeah, good luck getting her to 'trick or treat' you in a wheelchair," Lucas scoffed.

"Hey – cripples need love too," Skidd purred in retort.

Unable to see anything, Hartmann pounded the side of his box in frustration. "Why did I have to be in a box? Why?"

"Hartmann, shut up!" Fox snapped from inside his own box. "If you keep talking, the police will search the van, and then we'll be in even more trouble."

"Fine, Fox."

The boxes became silent as the vixen approached Lucas left side window and ordered him to roll it down. Crestfallen, the canine pressed the button to lower the window and hunched over in his seat.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" the officer spat, her voice dripping with a Romantic accent.

"Not fast enough," Lucas mumbled.

Irritated by Lucas's response, the vixen hardened her expression and barked, "What business do you have going 67 in a 45 mile per hour zone?"

Lucas clenched his fists and explained, "We're running late, and if we don't show up on time, our boss might kill us. For real."

"Oh, I'm sure," the officer sneered, rolling her eyes. "Let me see your license and registration."

A whimper escaped from Lucas's lips. He reached for the passenger's side glove box and opened it, only to find a pile of crumpled papers, a road map, and some oil-covered work gloves. "Skidd, can you help me find the registration?"

"Sure," the blue frog replied. Digging into the glove compartment, he pulled out three different papers, one of which looked like the registration card that Lucas sought. He uncrumpled the paper, then looked to his left when the noise of a racing engine reached his ears. Locking eyes with the clingingly attired vixen, he muttered, "Looks like you've got another one to take care of."

A second later, the blue, flame-covered van from earlier sped past them, missing the officer by mere feet and spitting gravel from its wheels. Lucas shielded his eyes from the spray of small rocks; and when he had regained his composure, he looked out of his window only to find that the vixen had already vaulted into her police cruiser and reactivated the siren. The sound of tires grinding against the gravel on the side of the road filled the air. Lucas watched as the police car sped away from him, hell-bent on stopping the blue van that began to disappear into the distance.

"Hey boss, didn't you sabotage that van earlier?" Lucas asked.

Hartmann's cardboard-tinged voice emanated from inside his box. "What did it look like?"

"Blue with yellow flames. The officer abandoned us just to chase it down."

"How the hell…? How did he fix the starter cable that quickly?"

"I don't know," Lucas answered. "Whoa – you've got to see this."

"I'm in a box, dammit!"

In the distance ahead of them, the police car pulled alongside the blue van and swerved into its left rear quarter panel. The PIT maneuver caught the van's driver off guard, but he fought back and regained control of his vehicle. Lucas and Skidd watched in horror as the duo neared a narrow concrete bridge up ahead. The officer refused to relent in her psychotic attempt to stop the van and attacked the rear quarter panel again. The van's driver yanked the steering wheel to the right, but found himself powerless to prevent himself from being spun out a hundred feet from where the bridge began. With both vehicles still traveling at fifty miles an hour, the van skidded off the road and disappeared off the left side of the bridge. Because her vision was blocked by the side of the van when she attempted to immobilize it, the vixen officer had no time to avoid falling victim to the same fate. She attempted to swerve back onto the road, but her tires found no purchase on the roadside grass. Cursing herself for her impulsiveness, she disappeared from Lucas, Katt, and Skidd's view.

With eyes wide, Lucas gasped, "I hope she's okay."

A moment later, an explosion ripped through the air. A massive fireball erupted from beneath the bridge and rose into the sky while Lucas's jaw dropped in horror.

However, he silenced his emotions in the span of five seconds and accelerated back onto the road. He resumed the same breakneck pace as before, although at this point, he needed all the help that he could get. As he crossed the bridge, he looked over the edge in hopes of discovering what had happened to the van and the police officer, but all he saw was a surging river and the trees that stood on both sides of it.

Traffic all but disappeared from the road as Lucas neared the base, and the altitude increased. Navigating a set of tight switchbacks, he came to a stop at a fork in the road. To the right, a 'DEAD END' sign greeted him; but to the left, a private road appeared. No gate blocked his entrance, but a yellow sign next to the road declared, "All traffic on this road monitored by camera."

Glancing at the van's internal clock, he noted the time – 9:58 AM. "I'd better make sure I finish strong here. This base might be a few miles up the road." He turned the van onto the unmarked road and gunned the throttle, eliciting a subdued roar from the engine. The trees on both sides of the road whisked past for a quarter of a mile, then came to an abrupt end. To the right, a lake stood in front of a large complex made of concrete and steel. The lake ended in an enormous dam, over which a long bridge had been constructed.

As Lucas raced across the bridge, he spotted the Anthracite complex's front gates up ahead. Entering the mild curve that led to the road's end, he slowed the van and looked over his shoulder at Katt. "When you get out, try to relieve the guard at Scarlet's cell. Do you have a locker in this base somewhere?"

"Yeah, I've got one," Katt replied. "Why does that matter?"

"If you've got any extra Anthracite uniforms in there, you need to make sure Scarlet gets one. Otherwise it'll be impossible for her to get out of the base."

Katt observed her own figure, dressed in one of the aforementioned Anthracite combat uniforms. "Um, how big is Scarlet? My spare uniform might not fit on her."

Knowing that Lucas lacked the information Katt needed, Fox spoke through his box. "Scarlet's five foot ten; and unfortunately, I'm pretty sure she's chunkier than you."

Katt narrowed her eyes. _"Never_ use that word to describe a woman. We _hate_ that word. It's right up there with 'moist' and 'panties.'

Hartmann let out an audible chuckle from inside his box.

In the front of the van, Lucas rolled his eyes and spoke to Katt. "Just make sure Scarlet gets a set of your clothes. If she can't fit into them, we'll figure something out. I don't see why they wouldn't fit, though—your uniform isn't very tight."

He turned his attention back to the road ahead. Reaching the front gate, he noticed its accompanying security booth; and with it, two soldiers who stood in front of it with assault rifles in hand. When Onyx's van rolled to a stop in front of the gate, one of the two soldiers walked in front of the van and approached Lucas's window.

Lucas locked eyes with the Dalmatian soldier and rolled down his window. Not giving the canine the opportunity to speak first, Lucas explained, "We're with Royce's IT service, here to work on your base's security system.

The soldier gave him a long, piercing stare that set Lucas's nerves on edge and made him fear that the mission had been compromised already. But then, the Dalmatian gave the other guard in front of the security booth a thumbs up and commented, "And not a moment too soon. The boss would not have liked it if you had shown up late – trust me on that."

"There was never a doubt," Lucas replied, his voice as flat as a flapjack. Or whatever they call a pancake in the corner of the world in which you live.

"Come on in," the guard grunted. A second later, the oversized, wheeled gate rolled open from the left, revealing a large concrete pad where a smattering of cargo vehicles sat. As he drove into the base, Lucas noticed a heavy helicopter gunship parked on the right side of the outdoor pad, just inside the base's fifteen foot high reinforced concrete walls that featured rolled barbed wire mounted to the top.

Behind the driver's seat, Katt glanced out the front window and pointed to an empty parking space underneath a second level balcony patrolled by three soldiers. "Over there. Back into that spot so I can get out without anyone noticing that I was in here. Make it quick!"

"Okay, okay," Lucas grunted. Because the van had no rear windows, he was forced to use the vehicle's oversized mirrors to help him reverse into the spot that Katt requested. Out the front windshield, he noticed three men walking towards his van. At the moment, two hundred feet separated them, but he knew that if Katt was to slip out of the van without drawing any attention to herself, he would have to move quickly. Hoping that no one would walk behind the van, he stomped on the gas and backed into the spot. The instant the van came to a stop with its rear doors five feet from the wall behind it, Katt opened the side door and leaped out before darting behind the nearest corner.

The three men drew closer; and as they neared the van, Skidd recognized the imposing lupine in the lead as his former employer, Wolf O'Donnell. A sadistic part of him desired to unleash one of D-Wheelchair's micro-missiles on him and end his life then and there, regardless of what that would mean for him or the van's other occupants. Nevertheless, he refrained and hoped that his disguise would prevent Wolf from recognizing him. He figured that it would, but he was far from one hundred percent certain about it.

As Wolf neared the van, his two husky bodyguards broke away from him and stood on opposite sides of the van.

 _"Okay. Let's do this,"_ Lucas whispered to himself.

When Wolf stepped to within ten feet of his door, Lucas opened it and stepped out, extending his hand for Wolf to shake. In return, the tall lupine clutched his hand and grasped it with vice-like force so intense that he felt his circulation being cut off. "Thanks for getting here on time. Marcel and Liam will show you to the security center," Wolf stated.

"Oh – thank you sir," Lucas replied, his nerves of steel preventing him from stuttering or showing signs of weakness. At least, that was how Wolf saw it. In reality, Lucas's nervous system kicked into overdrive the instant Wolf spoke, putting his entire body on edge. "If you don't mind, we've got two boxes filled with diagnostic equipment. Can you find some hand trucks for us so we can haul them to the security center?"

Wolf crossed his arms. "You got anyone else with you?"

That question answered itself when Skidd Marx rolled out from behind the van and stopped at Lucas's side. Wolf's eyes narrowed upon seeing the blue frog, and Lucas tensed up when he noticed the lupine baring his teeth. The towering wolf and the 'crippled' arrow tree frog locked eyes; and for a moment, time stopped. A western theme⁵ whistled through the air as Wolf's icy eyes met Skidd's cheap black hip hop shades. As the seconds ticked by, Lucas half expected one of them to draw a chrome revolver and shoot the other, even though neither of them appeared to be armed.

A moment later, Wolf ended the silent confrontation and turned his attention back to Lucas. "Fine. We'll take care of your boxes. It's not our problem if your gear breaks, though."

"That's fine," Lucas replied. While Wolf's two bodyguards – named Liam and Marcel – grabbed a pair of nearby hand trucks and walked towards the van, his thoughts turned inwards. _"That was a close one. I probably should have pressured the boss to think this job through more."_

A pair of frustrated yelps from behind the van broke his concentration.

"Damn! These things are heavy as shit!"

"What is this so-called 'diagnostic equipment' made of? Depleted uranium? I can barely even pick this one up!"

Leaving Skidd in front of the van, Lucas sprinted underneath the covered balcony, where Marcel and Liam struggled with the Pineapple boxes. "Here – let me help you guys with those." He placed his hands on Fox's box first and prayed that the tape on the bottom would hold. Marcel helped lift the box out of the van; but even so, the box's overwhelming weight still posed a challenge for them. When it reached the ground, Marcel slid his hand truck underneath it and moved towards Hartmann's box.

Sweat began forming on Lucas's forehead. Hartmann weighed at least twenty pounds more than Fox did, and even though he had used nearly half a roll of tape on the bottom of the box, he feared that it would still find a way to break. Turning to face Liam, he warned him, "This one is heavier. Don't hurt yourself."

"Too late for that," the canine spat. "Let's get this over with."

Both he and Lucas gripped Hartmann's box and manhandled it out of the van. As it left the rear of the vehicle, Lucas berated himself for not taking weight training as seriously as his boss did.

Then, the most agonizing sound possible reached Lucas's ears – the sound of tape ripping. He had no time to act. Taking his hands off the box, he yelled, "Just drop it here!"

Liam complied and released the box, which fell two feet to the asphalt below with a suspicious 'thump.' Lucas thanked his stars that Hartmann had managed to avoid making any noises, but he knew that the lack of a crashing sound would make Wolf's soldiers suspicious. As he suspected, Liam gave the box a perplexed glance and commented, "That was a pretty soft landing for something that heavy."

"Ah, well, that box is padded," Lucas replied. "Don't worry – I don't think you broke anything."

Liam glared at Lucas, then at the box at his feet. "I'm going to need to open this."

Resisting the urge to panic, Lucas stepped towards the box and slid the other hand truck underneath it. "Don't waste your time. We're going to have to open them in the security center anyway."

The husky looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Suspicion riddled his countenance, and Lucas could tell that part of him suspected that the box contained something other than diagnostic equipment. After pausing to consider his options, Liam replied, "Fine. But I want to know what's in there."

"We're going to use all of this gear, so you'll get to see what's inside," Lucas reassured him.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

While Lucas and Skidd made their way to the security center, carrying Fox and Hartmann's boxes on hand trucks, Katt slipped into the Anthracite base's crew quarters. The base's hallways seemed empty enough – after all, the base only held a hundred soldiers and was larger in terms of size than some state-run military installations. Still, she felt like multiple pairs of eyes were upon her at all times as she walked through the narrow hallways inside the base. Upon reaching a door marked "Women's Locker Room," she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She let out a deep sigh to calm herself, then moved towards her locker. She heard the sound of a shower being used in the space adjacent to the main locker room floor, but apart from that, no noise stood out to her.

 _"I never signed up for this. If I wanted to, I could seriously betray those Onyx guys and get my old life back today. It would be so easy. Maybe it's what I need to do? Wolf always paid me well, and if I'm honest with myself, I only volunteered to help Onyx because I'm scared of Panther. Is having to see him from time to time really a good enough reason for me to betray Wolf? I mean, Fox hasn't even said if he's serious about hiring me."_

The pink feline approached her locker and entered the lock combination on the door. After the three numbers had been entered, the door swung open to reveal one extra set of Anthracite military fatigues.

 _"If I go through with this plan, what'll happen to me? Will I end up unemployed with a target on my back like Slippy did? Maybe Fox is serious about taking me in? He told me that he was trying to rebuild his mercenary unit, but what do I have to offer him? I'm just a grunt. I'm okay with a gun and some electronics, and that's it. At least Slippy has a unique talent to offer. You know what? That settles it. I'm turning them in."_

She reached for her phone to call Wolf, but then another thought occurred to her. _"Hold on a second. If I betray Onyx, how do I know that Wolf won't shoot me anyway? If I know Wolf, I know the one thing he can't stand is a traitor."_

Katt sighed, then lowered her head to her chest. _"I guess I've got no choice but to stay the course. Time to meet this 'Scarlet' woman."_

She reached into her locker and pulled out her extra uniform, then slammed the locker shut before she left the locker room and stepped back into the hallway outside. At the end of the corridor, two alternate paths opened up to the left and right. From memory, she recalled that a set of stairs to the left led to the brig. Trying to look natural, she neared the end of the hallway and turned left, only to find the one person that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

Her nemesis, Panther Caroso.

The large, black-furred feline looked at her with piercing yellow eyes that dripped with lust and desire. He stood in the center of the corridor with arms crossed, blocking the way forward. Instinctively, Katt looked over her shoulder.

No one in sight.

" _Oh no, no, no, no, no!"_ thought Katt. _"It_ had _to happen today, didn't it?"_

Hardening her expression, she prepared to speak.

Panther beat her to the punch. "Well well, Mistress Katt. Such a pleasure to see you back here again. I was concerned that you had perished in the warehouse raid. I'm glad to see that my fears were unfounded." As he spoke, he slowly walked towards her, tail swishing from side to side.

"You," Katt snarled, pointing at him. "Get out of the way. I've got work to do here."

"I think you mean _'We've_ got work to do here.'" Panther smirked.

Katt's neon pink neck fur stood on end. "'Listen here, dipshit. I don't know where you got that idea from, but 'no' does not mean 'convince me.' I'm in a relationship, and the last thing I need is your disgusting hands on me."

Panther opened his hands in mock sympathy. "Oh, but your lover would never need to know."

"No, Panther. If you take one more step towards me, I'm turning around and reporting this to Wolf."

A smirk creased the edges of Panther's mouth. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Wolf would never push me away. I'm too valuable to his enterprise. The worst he would do is yell at me, and what are a few harsh words when it comes to true love?"

" _Oh, you've got to be kidding me right now."_

Panther continued. "So, go ahead. Tell him all about me, and I guarantee that what will happen to you is going to be far worse than what happens to me."

For the first time since she allegedly witnessed the Blue Fire from Hell, fear gripped Katt. Panther continued advancing on her until only ten feet separated him from her. As he approached, she looked over her shoulder again.

Still no one.

Now a mere five feet from her, Panther softened his eyes and said, "Don't try to resist me. I promise you'll enjoy it eventually."

Katt's panic and rage hit a fever pitch. A feline shriek reverberated through the hallway as she clenched her fists and hurled a flurry of punches at Panther's face. Each of them hit home with a painful 'thud.' In spite of his superior physical strength, the attack caught him off guard so much that instead of hitting back, he covered his face with his hands.

Seizing the opportunity, Katt slammed her fist into his gut. When he let out a yelp and hunched forwards, she slammed him against the left wall and backed up two feet, only to deliver the coup de grace—a kick to the groin. The instant her steel-capped boot struck its target, Panther crumpled to the ground and screamed in agony. Katt had a feeling she had done more damage than a temporary bruise.

As much as she wanted to stick around and lecture her would-be abuser, she knew better than to wait for Wolf or his reptilian number two to show up. So, she sprinted out of the hallway and raced down the nearby set of stairs to the brig.

Distancing herself from Panther's 'yowls', she entered the base's small prison area that contained four cells – two on each side of the hallway. At the moment, only one of them saw any use. A female opossum stood in front of the first cell to the left, and behind her, a red-furred vixen rested on the small prison mattress inside the enclosure. The instant Katt entered the area, the opossum abandoned her post and jogged towards her. "Katt! I'm so glad you're back! Please, can you take my post for me? This woman is driving me absolutely crazy. I'll give you 50 credits to do it." When Katt gave her a suspicious look, the opossum grabbed her arm and shook it repeatedly. "Please! Help me!"

Katt slapped her comrade's arm and took an irritated step back. "I'm not sure I want to do that. What did she do to you to make you so…I dunno…batshit crazy?"

The opossum's eyes screamed with terror. "I…I can't even talk about it. Please, Katt, help me out. This woman is evil."

Katt looked around her co-worker in time to see Scarlet sit up on her bed and give her a devious grin. Returning her attention to the opossum, Katt replied, "Alright – I'll help you out this once. You don't even have to pay me."

Katt did not even have the chance to step forward before the opossum threw her arms around her and squeezed her to the point of asphyxiation. "Thank you! You're the best, Katt!" After nearly choking her in excitement, the opossum handed over her prison keys and sprinted out of the brig. With the area to herself (and Scarlet, of course) Katt sauntered up to the vixen's cell and looked at her. In spite of the baggy orange prison jumpsuit that she wore, her 'assets' still managed to make themselves known.

 _"Wow. That is one hot vixen. 9.5/10. I would definitely do her."_

From inside the cell, Scarlet crawled to her feet and approached Katt. She gripped the bars at the front of her cell and licked her lips, then commented, "Ah, another guard. I never cease to be amazed with how easy it is to torment people like you."

Unfazed by Scarlet's advance, Katt kept a straight face and explained, "Listen, Scarlet – I'm here with your friend Fox. We're going to get you out of here."

Scarlet's sly smile disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed, shocked expression. "Really? He's here?"

"That's right," Katt replied. "I brought you some clothes to help you blend in. Here – put these on." She handed her extra fatigues to Scarlet, who reluctantly claimed them and hid them under her pillow.

"Did you want me to get changed now, or does Fox have something planned?"

Katt took a quick glance at the stairwell to her left and then admitted, "Well, Fox brought one of your catsuits with him. He'll be down here soon, if you really just have to have it."

"Oh, I do," Scarlet smirked.

Just then, two sets of boots clapped down the brig stairs. Katt's ears perked up, and she turned her back to Scarlet to make it look like she was standing guard over the cell. The sound of boots grew closer until their owners appeared in the brig's doorway.

Scarlet raised her eyebrows in surprised glee. "Bruno? What are you doing here?"

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 It's an Apple Computers parody, obviously.

2 Lucas seems to be implying here that he is asexual, or at least not very sexually inclined.

3 Originally, there was a character named Xavier in Lucas's place; and his response was, "Shit." However, Lucas _never_ swears.

4 Yet another Sly Cooper reference. This is Inspector Carmelita Fox.

5 Insert here: Ennio Morricone – "The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly."


	12. Skidd Marx's Skid Marks

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 8: Skidd Marx's Skid Marks_

 _Chapter 11_

The doors to the freight elevator opened, revealing Lucas, Skidd, and Wolf's husky bodyguards named Liam and Marcel. The instant the doors spread apart, Liam and Marcel pushed their box-laden yellow hand trucks into the hallway outside. Both of them felt uncomfortable not knowing what the two Pineapple Computers boxes contained, but Lucas continued to reassure them that they would find out soon enough. Turning left out of the elevator and walking until they reached a dead end, Liam opened a door to the right and motioned for everyone else to follow him. While his counterpart pushed his hand truck into the room, Lucas and Skidd trailed them.

The room featured a security console that looked out over a large common area inside the base's main building, with a thick sheet of glass providing a sense of isolation from the area below. Several soldiers milled about the area, but security appeared to be anything but tight. Clusters of computerized equipment whirred in the back of the room, unoccupied by anyone other than Skidd, Lucas, and Wolf's guards. Setting his box down near the front of the room close to the main security console, Liam looked at Lucas and pointed to a black office chair in front of him. "Hurry up and get to work. The router network¹ in here needs to be updated. It's badly outdated, and the boss is worried that it's making us vulnerable to a cyberattack. You see, he fired our previous technical specialist last week, and he's concerned that he'll find a way to exploit his knowledge unless we take action now."

From behind Lucas, Skidd smirked. _"Oh, if only they knew."_

Lucas turned his head towards Liam and replied, "All right. Give us an hour or so, and we'll have it done. You can leave now if you'd like."

Liam narrowed his eyes, while his counterpart clapped Lucas on the shoulder and hinted, "The boss doesn't think it's such a good idea to leave you on your own for this. We'll be keeping an eye on you until you're done."

 _"Damn it,"_ Lucas thought. _"How are we going to get Hartmann and Fox out of the boxes without blowing our cover?"_

With defeat in his eyes, Lucas sighed and nodded at Liam. He eyed the two boxes on the floor, knowing that something would have to give. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Skidd and subtly jerked his head towards the security console in front of the room's massive observation window. Skidd picked up on his cue and rolled his wheelchair towards it.

At the same time, Liam and Marcel walked to the back of the room and turned to face the console. Both huskies held their assault rifles over their chests as if waiting for Lucas and Skidd to try something.

While the two guards looked on, Lucas whispered to Skidd, "I don't want to say too much here, but you might want to look away. This could get ugly."

Skidd's mouth contorted into a devilish, toothless grin. "Nah, you ain't got nothing to worry about – I've got this all figured out. Witness the power of my B3 attack! It's only possible thanks to you letting me stop at Taco Ringer² on the way to the office store so I could get my hands on my beloved Mas Grande Beanstravaganza Burrito."

"B3 attack? What's that supposed to be?"

"Watch and learn, little buddy," Skidd chortled. The blue frog leaned back in his wheelchair and clenched his gums. Balling up his fists, he pumped his arms back and unleashed a tuba-esque blast that lasted upwards of five seconds before it tapered off with a sickening 'squelch.'

"Wow. You seriously just did that," Lucas moaned.

"Give it a minute," Skidd replied, raising his finger. As the seconds ticked past, a horrid, foul stench filled the air, inundating the room with a malodorous scent that could have given Corneria City's sewer system a run for its money.

Lucas's eyes flared open. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he groaned in muffled agony and stepped backwards. He sprinted for the door, but Liam and Marcel stopped him. While Marcel pointed his assault rifle at Lucas, Liam demanded, "What do you think you're…?"

The smell reached the back of the room.

"Whoa! Biohazard! Evacuate the room!" the husky shouted, turning his back on Skidd and forcing the door behind him open. Marcel followed suit, as did Lucas.

With the room cleared, Skidd raised his hands in triumph and proudly announced, "Behold – the Brassy Bassoon from the Buttocks! Now that's a brown note!" Then, he turned towards the two Pineapple boxes nearby. "Come on out, boys – the room's clear."

The two boxes vibrated feverishly, and although both Fox and Hartmann put their all into breaking out of their cardboard prisons, neither of them seemed to be able to. Then, Hartmann exploded out of his box and stood up. He glanced at Fox's box, and after realizing that he was stuck inside, he tore the tape at the top of the box with his index claw and opened it for him.

"Thanks," Fox gasped, emerging from the box with Scarlet's gray catsuit held in his hand. He looked around the room and tried to understand how the room had been cleared out so effectively, but then the traces of Skidd's B3 attack made their way to his nose. "Holy crap – what is that?"

"I think you just answered your own question," Hartmann replied, moving towards the room's door and taking a position to the left of it. "The guards won't stay outside forever, though. Stand across from me; and when they come back in, take them out. Hey Skidd, what happened to Lucas?"

"Sorry boss, but he didn't survive the B3 attack," Skidd replied.

Hartmann rolled his eyes. "Great. That means he's outside with the two guards. Well, if he gets in the way, he's going to get hit."

Fox put his ear to the wall and listened for any sounds coming from the hallway outside. After a moment, he heard the tapping of claws on the door handle and prepared himself to strike. Then, the door swung open. Having figured that Fox and Hartmann would have broken out of their boxes while he and Wolf's guards were out of the room, Lucas darted through the doorway ahead of Marcel and Liam, who insisted on having him enter the room first.

As the two huskies stepped through the door frame, their eyes alighted on the two opened Pineapple boxes near the front console. Both of them stopped in their tracks, giving Fox and Hartmann the perfect opportunity to strike. Matching Hartmann's movements, Fox lunged forward and grabbed Liam by the neck, then slammed his head into Marcel's. Both soldiers reeled in confusion and pain, unable to process the turn of events that ensued after they spotted the opened boxes. In seconds, both huskies' worlds grew black as Fox and Hartmann stepped behind them and cut off their breathing.

When Liam stopped moving, Fox released his grip and let the husky's body fall to the ground. Hartmann followed suit, then dragged Marcel towards the opened computer boxes. Propping him up against the side of Fox's box, he looked towards Lucas and asked, "Is there anything in here that we can use to tie these guys up?"

"I saw some CATV cables in a box near the back of the room. Those might work if you use enough of them," Lucas replied.

Hartmann looked to his left and noticed the aforementioned box. "Good. You're responsible for restraining them. I don't care how you do it. Just make sure they can't speak up or move anywhere."

"You got it, boss. What do you want us to do when you break Scarlet out?"

Hartmann stroked his muzzle, then looked at Fox before replying, "I'll call you when we're ready. Find a way to access the main gate controls and open it up, but don't do it until I tell you to. When I give the order, lock the gate in the open position and head back to the van. Then, we'll all pile in and get out of here. Anthracite will probably give chase, but once we leave their private area and get back on national roads, they'll have no choice but to let us go."

"Sounds risky, but it's a plan nonetheless," said Lucas.

Taking a glance at Marcel and Liam propped up against the back wall, Hartmann told Fox, "Let's take their uniforms. If we look like we belong here, we'll be able to get to Scarlet's cell in no time. Hopefully Katt's taken over guarding the brig by now."

Fox reached down and started unzipping Marcel's black fatigues. "Speaking of Katt, do you really think it was a good idea to trust her with this? She said she wants revenge on Anthracite, but it would be really easy for her to turn on us now that she's back in her home base."

While ridding Liam of his uniform, Hartmann glanced at Fox and answered, "I don't fully trust her either, but then again, I don't trust your blue friend."

"You'd say that after all I've done to help you?" Skidd huffed. "You know, I think I've got another B3 attack coming on thanks to that comment."

"No! Don't do it! I'm sorry!" Hartmann emphasized, holding up his hands as if Skidd's flatulence was a bona fide weapon.

While Hartmann tried to dissuade Skidd from unleashing another Brassy Bassoon from the Buttocks, Fox pulled off Marcel's fatigues and set to work pulling them on over his preexisting clothes. Wearing two layers of clothing made the warm building interior feel intolerably hot, but he wanted to be able to keep his personal clothes for later. Taking a quick look at the husky – left wearing only his white briefs and tank top – he noticed a black backpack leaning against the back wall. He moved to pick it up, and to his delight, he found it to be empty. Unzipping the main compartment, he tossed Scarlet's catsuit inside and slung the bag over his shoulders.

Around the same time, Hartmann finished dressing himself in Liam's gear after convincing Skidd to refrain from creating another biohazard. Giving Fox a nod, he picked up Liam's assault rifle and led Fox out of the room, allowing him to claim Marcel's weapons on the way out. The husky closed the door behind him and stepped into the hallway outside, then told Fox, "Just try to look like you belong here. If you look like you're going somewhere or have something important to do, no one will question it."

"Got it," Fox replied. "Now, where's the brig?"

"Your friend told me it was on the bottom level near the center of this building. Makes sense – that's the most secure location, and also one of the hardest to escape from. However, if Katt got her extra uniform to Scarlet, that shouldn't be a problem.

Following Hartmann down the nearby set of stairs to the base level, Fox asked the husky, "So, how much do you really know about Scarlet? Do you know her at all apart from your one night stand with her a year ago?"

"It's funny that you ask that, Fox. You see, we've talked a few times since then, but I can tell that she's not interested in starting anything serious with me."

Fox frowned. "That's odd. Scarlet's been throwing herself at me ever since I helped her with her job in Aquas."

Hartmann stopped near the bottom of the stairs and looked over his shoulder at Fox with wide eyes. "Really? Hot damn, Foxie – she really wants you, then. You'd better not be passing up on that."

"I don't think she's a good fit for me, though," Fox groaned. "I prefer a woman who's a bit less 'stripperiffic.'"

Hartmann grinned. "That about sums her up; but hey—I'm not complaining about it." He reached the bottom of the stairs, then scanned the area with his keen eyes and headed to the left down a long corridor that ended in another descending staircase.

"It's not just that," Fox insisted. "I don't see how a relationship with her could work. I mean, I've known her since I was a teenager, and she's never been one for stability."

"Maybe you should learn to live on the wild side, then," said Hartmann, glancing over his shoulder. "But wait—you say you've known her since you were a kid? What, are you two related or something?"

Fox came to a stop and cringed. "Please don't tell me you think that's hot."

Hartmann pursed his lips and looked off to the side. "Well…"

"You're ridiculous. But, to answer your question, we _were_ related. She was my cousin by adoption; but then she was put in foster care and adopted by someone else. So, in a weird way, we used to be related, but aren't anymore."

"That's a new one," Hartmann commented. "Well, I'm not going to try to convince you to try something with her. It's completely up to you, but if it was me? Oh hell yeah."

Fox rolled his eyes.

Hartmann's voice broke the temporary silence. "I think the brig is down this staircase."

As the two neared the stairs at the end of the hall, Fox glanced to the left in time to see a large, black panther hobbling down an adjacent hall, clutching his groin and whimpering as he shuffled towards a nearby locker room. _"What happened to him?"_ he wondered.

Hartmann slowed his pace as he reached the stairs and descended into the brig. Turning the corner, he laid eyes on the first cell. To his relief, Katt stood in front of it, acting as if she had been posted as the prison guard. However, a split second later, his eyes darted towards the first cell's occupant. As he drank in the picture perfect image of the most attractive vixen he had ever encountered, he felt his mouth going dry.

His heart did a flip when Scarlet stared at him with joyful eyes and blurted out, "Bruno?"

Suddenly, the embarrassment of his first name erased the ecstasy he felt. His mind returned to earth, just as Fox turned to him and asked, "Bruno?"

"It's my first name," Hartmann admitted. "Please, don't ever use it. That goes for you too, Scarlet."

The vixen returned a confused expression. "You let me say it several times when we made love a year ago."

"That…that was different," the husky stuttered. "But make no mistake – I hate that name!³ Don't bring it up again!"

"Well, if you say so," Scarlet laughed, climbing off of her prison cot and grabbing the bars on her cell door. "I'm so flattered that you came to rescue me. You too, Fox." She stepped back and blew him a kiss, prompting a tinge of red to color the tips of his ears.

Fox blushed and stepped towards Scarlet's cell, then pulled off his backpack and unzipped it.

"Do you have something for me?" Scarlet asked, peering into the bag. To her delight, Fox pulled out her gray catsuit and handed it to her through the cell bars. The vixen snatched it out of his hands and smiled with glee for a moment, then stared at him with an expression that suggested that he had forgotten something. "Fox, where's my underwear?"

Fox cringed and avoided looking into Scarlet's eyes. "I didn't think you'd need it, honestly."

"Really? I never leave home without it,"⁴ Scarlet insisted.

"Well, you can hardly blame me for thinking that you wouldn't care. After all, some of the stuff I saw in your suitcase while trying to find you a catsuit looked more like dental floss than clothing."

A devious smile appeared on Scarlet's face. "That's for special occasions," she purred.

Fox shook his head, then told Scarlet, "You can go through your suitcase all you want after we get out of here, but for now, go ahead and get changed. I see that Katt already gave you an extra set of Anthracite fatigues to wear. Try putting them on over your catsuit." Although he figured that Scarlet would have no qualms with undressing in front of him, he turned his back on her cell to give her some privacy.

It seemed that Hartmann did not share his ideals. With a smirk, he watched as Scarlet slipped out of her prison clothing and commented, "Sorry, Scarlet – I can't help it."

"Oh, I'm sure," Scarlet mocked. "How would you feel if I was the one watching you get changed?"

Hartmann crossed his arms and grinned. "I'd feel just fine."

Under her breath, Scarlet whispered, _"You handsome bastard,"_ and stepped into her catsuit, pulling the stretchy garment up to cover her chest and arms before she reached for the zipper on the front and sealed herself into one of her favorite articles of clothing. After snatching Katt's extra fatigues off of her bed, she looked down at her chest and gave Hartmann a crooked smile. At the same time, Fox turned around and realized why Scarlet wished that he had brought a pair of underwear for her.

"Well, that's one way to tell that it's too cold in here,"⁵ Hartmann joked.

"Shut up, Bruno," Scarlet smirked. "Can you get me out of here now?"

"Katt – keys," Fox ordered.

The pink feline dug into her pants pocket and produced the rusted key to Scarlet's cell. A quick turn later, the door swung open, and Scarlet stepped out, carrying Katt's extra fatigues. Giving her limbs a stretch, she pulled on the black jacket and frowned when it refused to zip up. Strangely enough, the jacket itself seemed to fit even though the zipper refused to move. The vixen managed to pull the reluctant metal tab up to her chest, but when she tried to force it past her voluptuous breasts, the zipper snapped off in her hand and left the jacket half open.

"Crap!" Scarlet griped.

At that moment, a quiet set of footsteps clapped against the stairs outside the brig. Fox, Hartmann, and Katt looked to the left in time to notice a raccoon soldier wandering into the area. Upon seeing Scarlet attempting to dress herself in Anthracite gear, his eyes widened.

"Intruders in the brig!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Without a moment's hesitation, Fox aimed his assault rifle and fired a barrage of bullets at the raccoon. The unfortunate soldier thrashed as the rounds struck him in the chest, then fell to the ground dead.

"Well, there goes our plan," Fox grimaced. "Now what?"

Hartmann looked down the hallway flanked by empty prison cells and noticed a doorway at the end. "Head down that hallway and hope that it goes somewhere. If it does and we don't run into anyone, Katt and I will split up and try to head back to the outdoor area. For right now, you just need to try to find a place to hide Scarlet until we can get something figured out."

His nervousness beginning to rise, Fox commented, "That doesn't sound like much of a plan."

"That's because it isn't. The plan is shot to hell. The only things that will get us out of here now are quick thinking and situational awareness."

The sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the stairwell leading into the brig.

"Dammit! Run!" Hartmann ordered.

The four sprinted for the door at the other end of the brig with Fox leading the way. Throwing his weight into the door, he forced it open and immediately turned right to avoid face planting into the wall that stood four feet behind the door. The new corridor that he, Hartmann, Katt, and Scarlet found themselves in was empty for the moment. Ahead of them, a set of stairs led back up to the common area below the control center where Lucas and Skidd sat; and to the left, a new hallway opened up. As the brig door closed behind the group, Hartmann looked to Katt and said, "This is where we split up. I don't think anyone is going to know who shot that raccoon, so all of us should be okay – except for Scarlet, of course."

With time being of the essence, he instructed Fox, "Find a place where she can hide, then try to locate a set of clothes that actually fit her. Got it?"

"Yes," Fox affirmed. "Come on, Scarlet – let's move."

While Hartmann and Katt sprinted up the staircase and disappeared after reaching the top, Fox glanced at Scarlet and allowed a tense frown to work its way onto his lips. "I had a feeling it was all going to go downhill eventually."

In response, the vixen placed a friendly hand on his shoulder and replied, "Don't worry, Foxie – I've managed to get out of tougher situations than this before. Let's take that hallway to the left."

"Got it. Here – take my handgun," said Fox, handing Scarlet the small pistol that he had swiped from Marcel's clothes.

With Fox ahead of her, Scarlet stepped into the hallway to the left. White paint decorated the walls on both sides. A few pictures dotted the walls here and there, but the long hall seemed relatively empty. Several silver doors stood out on both the left and right, with brass plaques decorating each of their monotone surfaces. Considering that no one seemed to be in the area, Fox pulled out his phone and contacted Slippy. Stopping and leaning against the left wall, he waited until the amphibian's voice came through his tiny speakers. To his dismay, Slippy seemed intent on maintaining his Skidd Marx persona, even over the phone.

 _"Why hello there, Fox. What can I do for you?"_ he rumbled in his disturbingly sensuous voice.

"Listen, Slippy," Fox replied, "I need you to make sure the camera feeds in this base aren't going to be seen by anyone other than you."

 _"I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is. Sounds like a huge nerd that no self-respectin' woman would ever want to cuddle with,"_ Skidd bellowed _. "But anyway, you ain't got nothing to worry about. I'm the only one who can see you through the cameras. Well, you and your lovely vixen. Ow – she is lookin' tasty!"_

"That's quite enough of that," Fox muttered, closing the call and returning his phone to his pocket.

Having overheard the last part of the conversation, Scarlet leaned closer to Fox and asked, "Was that Slippy?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Yes, except now he thinks he's a ladies'-frog named Skidd Marx."

"I really must have missed a lot while I was locked up in there."

"You don't know the half of it," Fox replied. He looked over his shoulder at the hallway entrance, then continued down the long, white hallway. He kept his finger on his assault rifle's trigger as he passed by each of the doors in the hall until a passageway to the right revealed itself. Fox and Scarlet stepped to within a hundred feet of the new hallway that began where the current corridor ended in a ninety degree right turn.

Suddenly, a door to the left opened. A brown Labrador walked out, wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clipboard.

The instant he laid eyes on Scarlet, he dropped the clipboard and reached for the silver handgun that he kept in a holster on his waist, but Scarlet beat him to it and drew her own pistol. The canine realized that he stood no chance, but by that point, it was too late for him. Scarlet pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into his chest. The lab clutched at his newly-formed wound as blood poured out of it and soaked his white coat. Losing strength, he fell to the ground and looked up at Fox and Scarlet with a malicious expression that betrayed a disturbing hint of glee. As his life-force faded away, he flashed a maniacal grin and shouted, "Kill them, my darlings!"

Two more doors in the hallway flew open behind Fox and Scarlet in response to the sound of gunfire. Without looking back, Fox grabbed Scarlet's empty hand and pulled her towards the nearby corner. As he raced past the still-opened door where the brown canine had stepped out, he caught a glimpse of the plaque mounted on it.

 _"Roberto Lorenzo – Robotics Doctor"_

Gulp.

Fox swallowed hard and rounded the corner with Scarlet hot on his heels. The right turn led the two vulpines into a narrow silver hallway that sloped upwards. Fox guessed that it led back into the common area – not a good thing, considering that after hearing numerous gunshots, the entire base would be on high alert by now. But instead of considering what he would do after he and Scarlet left the inclined hallway and entered the vast common area, Fox wondered why the hallway sloped upwards when it would have been simpler just to install stairs at the end.

Then it hit him.

 _"…One of Slippy's inventions that Anthracite uses are his rolling security drones. They look like big peppershakers with tiny little wheels on the bottom. They're equipped with two machine pistols each, and they're heavily armored. But because this was one of Slippy's inventions, he dropped a flaming turd on the project and left the drones with a crippling weakness."_

 _"Which is?"_

 _"Stairs."_

Instinctively, Fox looked back while running alongside Scarlet. From the opened room around the corner behind them, a duo of grating, robotic voices pierced the air.

"E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Ears on edge and a concerned expression on her muzzle, Scarlet panted, "What's that sound?"

Fox had only one answer. "Slippy's old armored security drones."

"I'm going to kill him when we get out of here," Scarlet snarled, narrowing her eyes.

Not giving the peppershaker attack robots the opportunity to line them up in their sights, Fox and Scarlet sprinted out of the inclined hallway and rushed into the common area. The instant they set foot in the area, three soldiers took aim at them from the center of the floor. Still running, Fox raised his assault rifle and fired in their general direction. One lucky round caught one of the guards in the arm, while a second bullet embedded itself in a second soldier's upper leg. Distracted by the pain, they lost their focus and roared in pain.

Then, Wolf's commanding voice echoed over the base's loudspeakers, reverberating through the large concrete and metal-filled space. "Attention all facility staff: this is an emergency. We are under attack. Lieutenant Heckler, Sergeant Koch⁶ – please report to the auxiliary warehouse at the end of Common Area B to help me move the nuclear missile cache to transport plane RFX-230 for immediate deployment to East Fortuna."

Dodging bullets from the third soldier in the common area, Fox led Scarlet to the left, through a large doorway with writing above it that read, 'CA – B.' Over the din inside the building, he shouted to Scarlet, "They're about to deliver nukes to East Fortuna? We've got to intercept them in that warehouse! We can't let those weapons end up with the rebel forces!"

The short hallway spat them out into another large, open common area that resembled a gymnasium or basketball court. The instant they set foot on the glossy, gray floor, two more soldiers leaped out at them and fired from the right side of the room. A line of bullets raced past Scarlet's ear as she lined up her handgun. She pulled the trigger three times, scoring two hits on the trooper. A split second later, the sound of Fox's assault rifle rattled the walls. The second soldier fell to the ground, leaving the room empty for the moment.

Looking ahead to the back of the gray-painted area that lacked windows, Fox noticed a large staircase leading towards a heavy blast door that looked like it would have normally been closed and locked. However, it hung open, and it looked like it had no intentions of shutting. He locked eyes with Scarlet. "Be ready for anything in there."

The vixen nodded.

Suddenly, the sound of the pursuing attack robots returned.

"E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Fox did not need to tell Scarlet to run. The vixen looked behind her time to see two meter-tall peppershaker-like 'things' speeding out of the short hallway behind her, chanting their one-word command like a mantra. The machines struggled to move in a straight line – they zigzagged back and forth, their four tiny base wheels allowing them to move in any direction at will. As Fox and Scarlet neared the stairs at the back of the room, the silver machines stopped and vibrated, jumping two full inches off the ground before they focused in on their two targets with their automated targeting systems.⁷

"TARGET ACQUIRED! E-LIM-I-NATE! E-LIM-I-NATE!"

Fox leaped onto the stairs and looked to his right in time for the two drones to aim their body-mounted machine pistols at him and Scarlet and open fire. However, because they had stopped in the center of the large common room floor over a hundred feet from their targets, their bullets sprayed in every direction except the direction that involved them hitting Fox or Scarlet. Lead riddled the back wall above the staircase. Rounds pinged off the rails and the metal frame holding it up. Fox raced to the top of the stairs with Scarlet on his heels. As he dove for the opened doorway, he heard Scarlet yelp in pain. Pushing himself to his feet and turning his head to meet her eyes, he silently demanded, "Are you okay?"

The vixen sprinted through the door and gasped, "A bullet hit my tail. I'll be okay."⁸

With their targets out of their lines of sight, the two drones ceased firing. However, they did not stop chanting their continued command to 'E-LIM-I-NATE.' Knowing that the peppershakers lacked the ability to deal with stairs, Fox wiped his brow and panted, "That was too close."

He looked at his new surroundings and realized that he and Scarlet were standing on a mesh-patterned metal balcony in the back of a large storage warehouse. Boxes and crates sat on the floor and in stacks that reached to the ceiling. The only light inside the expansive room came from two overhead ballast cans, one of which flickered every few seconds. Fox remembered that Lucas had shown him a black and white photograph of this very room back at the Onyx safe house in Golstave.

All of a sudden, the door behind him slid shut with a hollow 'ka-chunk.' The green light that showed the status of the lock turned solid red, sending the message that he and Scarlet had been locked inside.

"Fox! Get down!" Scarlet shrieked.

Not one moment later, the sound of gunfire erupted in the warehouse. Leaping for a large support column that held up the balcony under his feet, Fox felt the air from the bullets buffeting his fur. After the gun stopped firing, a harsh, gravelly voice echoed through the room.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, pup. Get ready to die."

Poking his head out from behind the column that acted as his cover, Fox looked down at the floor below and saw Wolf, armed with an assault rifle and covered head to toe in black combat armor. Then, he looked towards the center of the warehouse floor, where a massive, twelve foot tall bipedal loader stood. In a matter of seconds, Wolf vaulted up the side of the machine and leaped into the driver's seat, positioned behind a metal plate with two Plexiglas viewports. Fox watched in horror as the walker creaked into life, then stomped over to a large wooden crate on an overhead storage shelf attached to the left wall. With its metallic fists, the loader smashed its way into the box, then stepped back.

Holding a Gatling gun in each hand.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Originally, the IT tech was supposed to change the passwords. Author Nail Strafer pointed out that this is a horrible idea and is not how things are supposed to work in the real world.

2 Taco Bell: affordable source of heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea, and Pepto Bismol sales for over fifty-five years.

3 You know, Hartmann, your name could have been Tracy. You'd be begging and screaming for me to give you your old name back.

4 This detail is a carryover from something Scarlet mentioned in _The Oasis._ Put simply, there was an instance where her clothes caught on something and were ripped off; and at the time, she preferred not to wear any undergarments.

5 I'm not even going to explain this one. If you don't get it, congratulations—your mind is uncorrupted, unlike mine.

6 Reference to H&K firearms. Anyone familiar with that detail may have been able to piece together the fact that Wolf's intercom message was a ruse, since it would be unlikely for two of his team members to coincidentally have those names. Then again, this story could be described as one giant meme, so who knows?

7 If it wasn't obvious enough, Slippy's robots are a reference to Dr. Who's Daleks.

8 Scarlet must be made of some strong stuff, because I assume getting shot in the tail would hurt like _hell._


	13. Boss Battle 1

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

BOSS BATTLE 1¹

 _Chapter 12_

 _Music:² V12 (Instrumental Mix) – Tempo Giusto_

"This is really, really bad," Fox thought, looking towards the other side of the elevated balcony to the support column that Scarlet had taken cover behind. Behind his back and the pillar that shielded him from his arch-rival Wolf, the lupine stomped the warehouse ground in his massive, minigun-equipped loader. Fox dared not peek out from behind his cover for fear of giving away his position, but he had a feeling Wolf already knew where he was.

"Say goodbye, Fox!" Wolf shouted from behind the loader's protected driver's seat. Not a moment later, both of the loader's Gatling guns erupted, spewing hundreds of rounds in Fox and Scarlet's general direction. The hail of 50-caliber bullets ripped through the support columns holding the balcony up. With a groan of metal, the causeway collapsed under Fox and Scarlet's feet. Losing his footing, Fox fell flat on his face on the warping balcony as it crumbled to the warehouse floor. Nearby, Scarlet screamed and tried to find a purchase on something. All the while, the loader's twin guns continued to pelt the area.

With a shock that knocked the air out of his lungs, Fox hit the ground amidst a cloud of dust created by the falling structure. Rolling onto his back, he looked to his right and saw Wolf's loader approaching the rubble. He knew he only had a tiny window of opportunity to slip out of Wolf's sights. Along the wall in front of him, he noticed a large chunk of eviscerated metal that had fallen into a relatively solid shape; and behind it, he saw an opening between it and the wall bordering Common Area 2.

As much as he feared for Scarlet's safety, he knew that he had to focus on himself if either of them wanted to have any chance of escaping. While Wolf's loader began sifting through the rubble of the ruined balcony, Fox lunged towards the wall and pushed through the tiny opening at the edge of the debris. Wolf noticed the movement through the scraps of metal and turned the loader to his right, but he could not rotate quickly enough to put Fox in his sights. Breaking out into the middle of the cluttered warehouse floor, Fox dove behind a brick-shaped cache of wooden crates, ten feet high and equally wide. All of the boxes sported black paint markings that read 'CAUTION: EXPLOSIVE.'

 _"Oh no – he's going to shoot the boxes. No, wait – if he does that, it could bring down the whole warehouse. I know Wolf wants me dead, but he's not that crazy."_

The pause in action confirmed his suspicion. On the warehouse floor in front of the crates, Wolf paced back and forth, looking for an angle at which to attack Fox. Five seconds passed. Fox felt the hands of panic attacking his body. He knew Wolf was thinking up some kind of plan to eliminate his cover; and when he did, he would have to find new shelter almost immediately or risk being ripped apart by the loader's twin miniguns.

As if on cue, his phone chirped. Luckily for him, it was not loud enough to alert Wolf. Digging into his pocket, he raised it to his ear, fully prepared to drop it and run if Wolf attacked his position. "This had better be important," he whispered.

To his dismay, the voice of Skidd Marx assaulted his ears yet again. _"Fox, there's something I've got to warn you about! Don't go into that warehouse! You see, when Wolf says over the intercom that there's an emergency with intruders in the base, it's always a plot to trick the intruders into going where he wants them to. Wolf's trying to lay a trap for you, Fox!"_

"A little too late, pal," Fox snarled. "I'm fighting your stupid warehouse loader right now. Got any ideas on how to take it down?"

 _"Oh crap, Fox – you're screwed!"_ Skidd rumbled. _"Your only chance is to shoot Wolf from behind, but I don't know how you're going to get behind him in that warehouse!"_

Without a second thought, Fox shoved his phone back in his pocket. The last thing he needed was another voice telling him that there was no way to escape the warehouse alive.

Then, the walker's footsteps pummeled the ground behind him, growing louder as it moved towards the stack of boxes acting as his only cover. The thundering footsteps reached a punishing level in his ears. Then, a new noise filled the warehouse. Fox gasped as the walker threw its weight into the connected cube of wooden crates and started pushing it. He lost his footing and fell to the ground, only to be carried along by the boxes grinding towards an empty alcove in the warehouse's side wall.

 _"No! He's going to try to crush me against the wall!"_

The gray cinder block wall grew closer, moving to within fifteen feet of his certain demise. He couldn't let it all end like this. He had experienced years of success with his mercenary work, and the thought of it all ending with a bone-crunching 'splat' against a wall felt like the worst possible way to go out. While being shoved along the floor, Fox reached for anything that his hand could grab. His gloves caught the top edge of the crate that slid along the ground. Even though another large wooden crate sat atop it, it was not perfectly stacked. This created six inches of a finger hold for Fox to take hold of.

Gripping the edge of the lower crate like a lifeline, Fox swung his other arm around his body, twisting his back in the process. His ligaments protested with pain, but he had no time to listen to them. With both hands gripping the tiny wooden ledge, he pulled himself up and stood on it with his feet turned sideways.

The wall loomed closer. Five feet away.

With all the strength he could bring to bear, he jumped, raising his hands in hopes of reaching the top of the box stacked on top of the one scraping along the floor. His hands caught the edge. The wall drew even closer. In a mere second, there would be no chance of escape. Over the sound of the boxes scraping and the walker stomping towards the wall, Wolf's laughter echoed through the warehouse. Fox's muscles cried out for relief as he yanked himself upwards, pushing his arms to their limits.

He swung himself onto the top of the upper crate and braced himself as the explosive crates slammed into the back wall. He struggled to maintain his footing, but he had no time to think about such a minor detail compared to what stood in front of him. With its mechanical arms still extended to push the boxes, the walker stood face to face with Fox. For the briefest of seconds, he stared straight at the walker's faceplate. Through one of the Plexiglas viewports, he caught a glimpse of Wolf's incensed expression.

He knew he only had a split second to react. Collecting himself, he leaped off the top box and reached for the top of the loader's faceplate. His hands caught on the thick sheet of armor, but before he had the chance to pull himself up, Wolf unbuckled his seat belt and reached for his handgun. The instant Fox noticed Wolf's ears poking out from behind the plate, he let go and fell to the ground.

The impact from the twelve foot drop to the floor screamed through his legs and feet; and he knew that if he survived the fight with Wolf, he would be in pain for several days. At the moment, however, his adrenaline kept him focused on what mattered – his survival. While Wolf struggled to buckle himself back into his seat, Fox sprinted between the walker's legs and turned around with his assault rifle pointed towards the exposed back part of Wolf's seat. The instant the lupine sat down and clipped on his seat belt, Fox unloaded a three-round burst. The bullets sliced through the back of Wolf's seat and into his back.

Fox did an internal fist pump, but in little time, he realized that his attack had done almost nothing to stop his arch-rival from driving the machine. Almost as if the bullets had never been fired, Wolf turned the walker around and took aim at Fox.

 _"Damn! That armor he's wearing is thick!"_

Kicking up his heels, he sprinted towards the back of the warehouse, arranged in three aisles similar to the ones one would find in a wholesale supermarket. The aisles ran perpendicular to the rectangular shape of the warehouse, which Fox hoped would prevent Wolf from taking aim at him once he entered one of them. As he rounded the corner into the first of the three horizontal aisles, Wolf opened fire on his position. The bullets ripped a chunk out of the concrete floor, but missed him by mere inches. Adrenaline kicking with full force, Fox raced towards a tall stack of boxes organized at the bottom of one of the ceiling-high shelves. On the front, the words 'DO NOT EXPOSE TO HEAT' stood out to his eyes.

Hearing Wolf's walker stomping towards the aisle entry, Fox tore out his knife and sliced a hole into the side of the wooden crate. Thrusting his hand into the newly created gap, he yanked the front of the box off to reveal the ultimate early Christmas present—an assortment of RPG launchers and their accompanying warheads.

Without hesitation, he pulled out one of the launchers and fumbled around inside the box until his hand came into contact with one of the explosive warheads. All the while, Wolf's walker stomped closer to the aisle entry until its legs jutted out from behind the corner. Panicking, Fox jammed the shell into the launcher and hefted it onto his shoulder just as the walker stepped into the gap between the two aisle shelves, around fifty meters from where he stood.

Fox's finger pulled back on the trigger, sending the warhead racing towards the machine with a fiery burst. The explosive shell streaked down the aisle and hit Wolf's walker in the left leg, exploding in a fiery cascade that sent shrapnel flying in all directions. The towering machine stumbled, with sparks flying from its damaged leg. The instant that he fired the first shell, Fox pulled out a second warhead from the box and began loading it. Realizing that his opponent had managed to exploit a weak point of his, Wolf backed out of the aisle and stomped towards the center of the warehouse.

As the walker's footsteps reached the middle of the floor, Fox realized what he intended to do.

 _"He's…he's going to blow up the whole back end of the warehouse."_

Trapped between the two aisles that reached to the roof, Fox had no way of seeing Wolf's machine. Still holding onto his RPG tube, he sprinted for the end of the aisle and poked his head out in time to see Wolf back his loader into position to fire on his previous position. Despite being a hundred and fifty feet away from the RPG cache, he knew that if Wolf fired on the warehouse shelves, the resulting explosion would kill him in seconds and possibly bring down the entire warehouse in the process.

While Fox debated whether to run for cover and expose his exact position or risk being obliterated by Wolf detonating the back half of the warehouse, Scarlet managed to extricate herself from the rubble of the collapsed balcony. Crawling through the twisted metal, she pushed herself into the open floor, fifty feet behind Wolf's walker as he took aim at the warehouse shelves. Knowing exactly what he intended to do, she jumped to her feet and launched into a frantic sprint, pulling out her handgun. When she neared the walker, she took aim at Wolf and fired four times. None of the shots hit home. However, the noise distracted Wolf; and he looked over his shoulder in time to see Scarlet leap for the short ladder attached to the back of the walker's left leg.

With the mere pull of a lever, he pumped his walker's left arm backwards with its elbow extended. The blow struck Scarlet in the stomach. The vixen screamed in pain and released her grip on the machine, landing back-first on the hard concrete floor. Her handgun clattered nearby, but the sheer pain of Wolf's attack left her unable to do anything other than roll over and empty the contents of her stomach on the floor.

Wolf capitalized on her moment of weakness. As she tried to crawl her way to her gun, Wolf turned his walker around and aimed at her. She could feel his fingers gripping the trigger to his dual Gatling guns, willing to end her life in the blink of an eye. Then, out of the corner of her vision, a yellow flash erupted from the back of the warehouse. An RPG screamed through the air, aimed directly at the metal plate in front of Wolf's seat. The missile narrowly missed its target and instead whizzed over the walker, only to explode against the wall near the door where Fox and Scarlet had entered the room.

In the fraction of a moment that left Wolf distracted, Scarlet grabbed her handgun and lunged to her feet. Ignoring the extreme pain in her stomach and the vomit on her lips, she sprinted between the walker's legs and once again jumped for the ladder on the left leg. Her hands caught the yellow support. Expecting Wolf to punch her again, she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up the ladder using every ounce of strength left in her injured body. Wolf swung his walker's arm at her again, but this time, he hit only air. Only then did Wolf realize that he had a new problem to deal with. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for his handgun.

Reaching the top of the ladder, Scarlet stepped onto the small flat area on top of the loader, where Wolf sat in the central driver's chair. While the lupine brandished his handgun, Scarlet clenched her fist and pummeled him in the muzzle. Wolf reeled in pain, dropping his weapon on the floorboard by his feet. With his seatbelt hanging limp against the side of the driver's seat, Scarlet used the energy from her punch to swing her arm the opposite direction with her hand angled sideways. Her martial arts chop struck Wolf in the neck, forcing him to let out a piercing scream of agony. Looking over the front of the walker's front armor plate, she noticed Fox running towards her with his assault rifle in hand.

Baring her teeth like a wild animal, Scarlet wrapped her arms around Wolf's torso and rotated his driver's seat until it faced sideways. Then, she coerced her remaining strength into her arm muscles and heaved Wolf off the chair. With a howl, he plummeted from the top of the loader and landed on his side with an agonizing 'crunch' that echoed through the warehouse.

Fox ran towards his rival and pointed his rifle at him, expecting the large lupine to crawl to his feet. To his surprise, however, Wolf groaned and gritted his teeth in pain. He seemed unable to move in any capacity apart from writhing on the ground. Even his heavy armor failed to prevent him from being hurt after being thrown from the top of the walker.

Even though he and Scarlet seemed safe enough, Fox looked around the warehouse for any new activity, all the while keeping his stolen assault rifle pointed at Wolf's head. When he ascertained that no one else had entered the building, he glared at Wolf and barked, "Where are the nukes? Tell me now!"

Wolf returned a baleful look full of abject hatred for his vulpine rival. "There are no nukes, pup. It's hard to turn a profit by blowing up the world."

"Then where are the chemical weapons? Which planes are they in?"

Wolf snarled, opening his mouth to reveal his prodigious set of teeth. Then, his mouth contorted into a sadistic smile. "That doesn't matter anymore."

"What do you mean?!" Fox demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," Wolf replied, maintaining his smile.

Standing across from Fox with Wolf's body between her and him, Scarlet drew her handgun and cocked it. Then, she aimed it at Wolf's head and placed her finger on the trigger.

Almost immediately, Fox violently waved his hand at her and ordered, "No – don't kill him."

Scarlet looked at him as if he had gone mad. "What? Are you serious, Fox? If we don't kill him now, he's going to come back later!³ It's how these things work. Haven't you ever seen any movies? Don't be the stupid nice guy who spares enemies who won't ever have a change of heart. Sometimes, doing the right thing requires you to be a bit evil."

Almost as if to drive Scarlet's point home, Wolf looked at Fox and narrowed his eyes. Spewing hatred from his lips, he spat, "Yeah! Shoot me while I'm down like a real coward! Do it! Show me how pathetic you really are!"

Fox shook his head. "No. I won't do it. Put the gun away, Scarlet."

The vixen balked, knowing that Fox was making a colossal error in judgment. Yet, for some reason, she did not want to let him down. Most of the time, she would have been more than happy to ignore his order and bury a bullet in Wolf's skull, but this time, she relented and clipped her handgun back onto her catsuit's utility ring. "You're going to regret this, Fox."

Ignoring Scarlet, Fox stepped away from Wolf and looked around the warehouse for an exit door. Now that their initial entry point had been rendered unusable due to the destruction of the balcony at the front of the warehouse, Fox knew that they needed to find another way out. As he searched for a panel or door in the wall, an explosion ripped through the wall between two ceiling-high shelves mounted along the side wall. Amidst the debris and noise, a wheelchair zoomed into the warehouse. The dust cleared in moments, revealing Skidd Marx.

With a frantic look of determination on his face, he waved his hands towards the newly created hole in the wall and shouted, "Come on, guys! We gotta scram!"

Fox looked to his right and spotted his discarded RPG launcher lying on the ground. As he looked at the weapon, a thought occurred to him.

" _I'd better take this thing with me."_

* * *

 _AUTHOR'S NOTES:_

1 An early idea for _Sierra Foxtrot_ was to introduce Boss Battles into the story to give it a more 'videogame-ish' feel.

2 Suggesting music for scenes is _incredibly_ cheesy and amateurish, but I DGAF. All except for one boss battle features an accompanying trance anthem.

3 Amazingly, in the original _Sierra Foxtrot,_ Wolf never appeared again and only showed up after the story ended as part of a questionably-canonical oneshot where it is revealed that he and Scarlet are dating—despite the fact that she would have killed him here without hesitation if Fox had not intervened.


	14. A Black Exit

**Arc II: Darker Matters**

 _Part 9: A Black Exit_

 _Chapter 13_

With Skidd's wheelchair in the lead, Fox and Scarlet sprinted through the newly-created hole in the warehouse wall. Throughout Wolf's entire complex, alarm sirens blared, searing their ears. Yet, at the same time, a palpable feeling of complete chaos hung over the base. With their leader out of commission and unable to make executive decisions, the base's personnel felt unsure of what to do next. As Fox and Scarlet re-entered Common Area 2, they noticed the charred, eviscerated remains of the peppershaker assault drones on the floor. Neither of the vulpines had any doubt that Skidd's missile launcher had been instrumental in their demise.

The blue frog led his two companions through a short hallway into the common area below the main control center, then looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Hartmann finished putting trackers on all the planes and Katt's secured the van, but we've got to hurry!"

Another short hallway appeared up ahead, leading towards the front exit doors. As Skidd, Fox, and Scarlet neared it, three soldiers burst through the door at the end of the hallway and blocked it. All three of them took aim at the interlopers, but before they could fire, Skidd pressed a button on his wheelchair's right arm. A single missile launched from the back of his wheelchair and flashed down the hallway, where it hit one of the three soldiers and detonated with a fiery roar. To his dismay, however, 'D-wheelchair' commented, _"Missile Empty. Reload me, punk."_

"Shish-kabobs! I'm out of ammo!" Skidd announced, still rolling across the common area floor ahead of Fox and Scarlet. Right on cue, a small side panel above the wheelchair's right wheel opened up, revealing a small mechanical arm holding a machine pistol. While Skidd grabbed the weapon, Fox asked, "What happened to Lucas? Is he okay?"

At that moment, Lucas barreled down the stairs from the control center, nearly slamming into "Skidd's" wheelchair. The jackal's fur bore numerous burn marks, and several blood splatter stains covered his black clothes.

"I guess that answered that question."

Rolling over the dead soldiers who had failed to block the exit, Skidd smashed through the twin opaque doors leading outside. The instant his chair left the building, a chilling sound filled the air. Along with him, Fox, Scarlet, and Lucas all recognized the source of the noise – an attack helicopter.

A small, aluminum-roofed awning covered the area immediately outside the base's front doors and prevented the helicopter from spotting them. However, Skidd and the others knew that death was all but guaranteed if they took any course of action that did not involve retreating into the building behind them. In the foreground, the large concrete pad that made up most of the base's outdoor area sprawled in front of them. Few soldiers occupied the area, but the attack chopper could have passed as an entire squad due to Fox and company's lack of anti-air weapons.

Adding insult to injury, when Fox looked to his left, he spotted Hartmann's black van, still parked under the balcony along the front side of the base's main building. Katt fidgeted in the front seat and stared at him with panic in her eyes. At the extreme front end of the outdoor pad, the base's front gate hung open as a result of Skidd and Lucas's meddling. Three soldiers stood guard by the opening; and even though Fox figured that they would be easy enough to deal with, he knew that the instant Onyx's van started moving, the attack chopper would reduce it to a smoldering fireball filled with dead furries.

Gritting his teeth, Fox locked eyes with his counterparts and barked, "Back up and get ready to run back inside. I'm going to try to shoot that thing down." He reached for the RPG tube slung across his back. The others held their collective breath as he raised it to shoulder level and stepped forwards.

The instant he emerged from under the front door awning, the gunship's pilot spotted him and rotated in his direction. At that moment, he felt his blood turn to ice. With only a rudimentary circular iron sight to help him line up the shot, he pointed the launcher at the gunship and moved his finger to the trigger. Just then, the three soldiers standing guard at the frozen-open gate realized what he was doing and opened fire on him. A swarm of bullets zipped past him, prompting Skidd to blurt out, "Holy guacamole!"

Fox perceived Scarlet readying her pistol and preparing to fire back, but he narrowed his focus on the one task that lay before him. He centered the RPG's tiny orange aiming dot on the hovering chopper's rotor assembly and pulled the trigger. His RPG blasted out of the tube and raced upwards. The warhead started high, but gradually lost altitude, arcing towards the helicopter. As it descended, however, Fox realized something.

" _I aimed too low."_

Compounding his fear, the chopper wobbled in midair, then angled towards him. The gunship's miniguns spooled up, ready to unleash an unsurvivable torrent of high-caliber shells on him. At the same time, Scarlet traded shots with the guards at the distant gate, hoping to pin them down with suppressive fire even though she stood little chance of hitting them with her pistol.

The RPG continued its rapid arc. As Fox realized, the warhead was all but doomed to miss the gunship and hit the ground outside the base's walls.

Or more specifically, it would have, if the helicopter had not moved a mere second earlier.

The RPG slammed into the small cockpit area, eviscerating the front of the aircraft and killing its occupants instantly. The chopper burst into flames and wobbled in midair, losing altitude at a lethal rate. While Fox and Skidd stared at the crashing helicopter, Scarlet shouted, "Head for the van, now!"

Scarlet's voice snapped Fox out of his momentary lull in concentration. Following the vixen, he sprinted towards the parked van as the helicopter crashed to the ground and rolled onto its side. The spinning top rotor dug into the pavement, slicing through a cache of explosives positioned on the ground nearby. The resulting explosion filled the mid-morning sky and illuminated it even more than the sun did.

Ahead of the others, Scarlet dove for the van's side door and wrenched it open. Lucas darted for the back of the vehicle and pried open the twin rear doors to reveal Hartmann already seated inside. While Lucas leaped into the back, Fox followed him and closed the doors behind him. Only Skidd remained. For a moment, Fox wondered how exactly he planned on entering the van in his wheelchair.

With the van's side door still opened, Skidd leaped out of his chair, shouted, "Glory hallelujah! I've been healed!" then pulled the passenger side front door open and flopped into the shotgun seat next to Katt. To Scarlet's shock, Skidd's wheelchair raced towards the opened side door and bounded into the open space on the cargo floor next to her. Then, using its empty missile arm, it grabbed the door and slid it shut.

While everyone in the van other than Skidd stared at the wheelchair as if it had been an extra-terrestrial life form (or maybe it was), Katt fired up the van's engine and floored the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the concrete; and the momentum threw Fox and Lucas against the back of the vehicle. From the rear cargo area, Hartmann shouted, "Katt! Don't stop for anything!"

The feline nodded feverishly.

With the gas pedal plastered against the floor, Katt launched the van out of its parking space. Between them and freedom lay a small group of soldiers, all of whom took aim at the van. Rapid-fire bullets plinked off its black sheet metal and pierced its windshield as it sped towards the exit. To avoid being hit, Katt ducked below the steering wheel, as did Skidd.

Unable to stop the van from leaving, the soldiers by the gate dove out of the way to avoid being run over. Lifting her head above the steering wheel, Katt peered through the bullet-marked windshield and cranked the wheel to the left to make the turn out of the base. All the while, bullets from inside the base riddled the back of the van. Nevertheless, Katt felt that the worst had passed.

Hartmann had a different prognosis. "Don't get too excited. We're not out of the woods yet."

Katt understood the grim tone of his words to mean that Anthracite's base personnel would start giving chase to them at any moment. While beginning the descent down the long private road, she glanced in her mirror and saw three black military SUVs turning out of the base in pursuit of her van. Instinctively, she ducked her head to the right in time to watch a bullet fired from one of the vehicles blaze a hole through the mirror. Bullets pelted the van as the convoy neared the long bridge that ran over the lake responsible for providing the base's power.

While keeping the gas pedal planted to the floor, Katt shouted, "Hartmann! This is a drawbridge!"¹

Hartmann froze. "Oh shit."

No sooner had he spoken than the middle of the lengthy bridge began to lift up. The pavement under the van's wheels transitioned from the road's asphalt to the wiry mesh of the bridge, but over five hundred feet separated the van from the center of the structure. The drawbridge continued to rise. By this point, Katt guessed that its angle could have measured roughly fifteen degrees. All the while, more bullets from behind pockmarked the van. With fear in her voice, she yelped, "Hold on, everybody!"

When she closed to within fifty feet of the rising drawbridge, she clenched her fists and held the steering wheel with an iron grip. Then, the van's front suspension jolted. The vehicle angled upwards, leaving the surface of the bridge and soaring through the air. Time slowed to a crawl for Katt. This could either end in triumph or the bitter defeat of the van smashing into the underside of the bridge and falling into the lake. Despite her optimism, she knew that it would be difficult – at best – to survive the second eventuality. So, with her teeth gritted, she held her breath.

A moment later, the van's wheels slammed down on the opposite side of the drawbridge. The entire vehicle threatened to skid out of control and barrel though the bridge's railings, but Katt masterfully wrenched the wheel into submission and straightened out her course. A collective gasp of relief filled the van, and it turned to jubilation when the bullets ceased pelting the van.

With the pursuing SUVs stuck on the other side of the bridge and Anthracite's assault helicopter in a pile of smoldering ruins back at the base, nothing stood in the way of the team and their escape. Pumping her fist, Katt yelled, "We did it! Yeah! I can't believe that actually worked!"

Near the back of the van, Hartmann shook his head and replied, "Honestly, I didn't think all of us would be getting out of there alive. Call it a miracle if you'd like, or just chalk it up to sheer dumb luck."

"I say luck," Scarlet opined. "I've got a perk for that."

"Well, considering that your tits got us into this whole mess, I think I'd have to agree with you."

A displeased expression crossed Lucas's muzzle. "Boss, I'm going to need to know what you mean by that."

Hartmann smirked. "It's complicated."

"No, it's not," Scarlet balked. "Katt's dumb jacket wouldn't zip up, and now it's stuck on me."

From the driver's seat, Katt offered an apology. "Sorry about that. I should have known better than to give you the jacket with the bad zipper."

Sensing that the conversation was going nowhere important, Fox raised his voice and asked Hartmann, "Did you put all the trackers in place?"

The husky nodded. "Sure did. We'll be able to track each of the planes to within ten feet of their positions at any given time. Hopefully this will allow us to get the info on the chemical weapons into the right hands. And you know what that means."

"Actually, I don't know what that means," Fox replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Why, we get paid, of course!" Hartmann laughed. "No good deed ever goes unpunished."

Fox narrowed his eyes, then leaned against the van's rear door. "I get the feeling you use that phrase a lot."

"You're not kidding," Hartmann sighed. "Freelance intel is one of the worst mercenary fields to work in. I think we're one of three companies in existence right now in that field, just because most of them get ripped apart by government forces or other mercs at some point or another. When it's all said and done though, I think it's worth it. Still, I have a feeling that we're not going to be doing this for much longer. It's starting to get too dangerous – our names are too hot, and once you've got a reputation attached to you, it's only a matter of time before someone comes to knock you off."

"I hear that," said Fox. "I guess we're heading back to the factory now, right?"

"Yep. But after this, we're going to pull out. You're on your own then. I hate to drop extra baggage on you, but I'm going to leave it up to you on what you want to do with Katt."

Katt's ears twitched. "Fox—you know what I want. Can you please help me out?"

"Hmm..." Fox mumbled. "I've thought about it a little bit, and I've decided that I'm going to let you sign up. There's just one thing you need to know about."

"What's that?"

"I can't pay you very much at first. For lack of a better term, I'm…um…teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. I hope you understand."

"Oh…" Katt groaned. "That's not good. Do you have any jobs coming up?"

Fox shook his head. "Nope. We'll find out when we get back to Corneria."

Visibly uncomfortable, Katt shifted in the driver's seat and turned off Anthracite's private drive.

" _You've gotta be kidding me. I just jumped off a sinking ship onto a boat that's about to hit a freaking iceberg. Dammit! Why does Falco get it so easy while I have to put up with all this garbage?"_

Trying to distract herself from her newfound reality, she peeked out of her peripheral vision and asked the vixen behind her, "Hey Scarlet – what are you doing next?"

"Nothing much. I might hang out with Foxie a bit longer, but I think I'm going to take a bit of time off to visit my stepparents. Want to come with me?"

Katt's ears shot up in surprise. "Um, I don't even know you. Are you sure about that?"

"Of course! My parents would love you. You kind of look like them—except, a lot more pink."

"Are you telling me that I look like a fox?" Katt questioned, narrowing her eyes before a realization dawned on her. "Oh…stepparents. I see. Well, I'll think about it, but I probably should focus on my new job first."

"Thanks, Katt," Fox replied from the back of the van.

Rounding a corner on the mountainous road leading back down into Golstave, Katt spotted something on the edge of the pavement. As it came closer, she recognized it as the police officer who had stopped them earlier. Her clothes looked torn and burnt, and her posture hinted at both pain and desperation. Katt looked over her shoulder and announced, "Hey Lucas – it's that cop lady from earlier. She looks hurt. Do you want to stop and help her?"

"What? She survived? Pull over _now."_

A split second later, Hartmann violently waved his teammate off and snapped, "Are you serious? Keep going!"

"But she's hurt, and we're in the middle of nowhere," Lucas protested. "Katt, just listen to me. Pull over and see if she's all right."

The squeaking of brakes filled the air as Katt slowed the van and pulled off on the side of the road in front of the police vixen. A mere five feet away from her, Katt recognized the genuine pain in her eyes and could tell that her injuries needed attention. Rolling down her window, Katt poked her head out and asked the vixen, "Are you okay? Did you get the van driver?"

"No – that turtle flew away in his stupid wheelchair, and my shock pistol fell into the water and shorted out,"² the officer lamented. "Can you help me? I can't get any reception out here, and my leg is bleeding. I promise that I won't arrest you if you help me."

Katt took a deep breath, knowing that Hartmann would disapprove of her allowing the police woman to climb into the van. Nevertheless, she felt that it was the right thing to do. With uncertainty, she told the woman, "Come on in. We can drop you off on the way back to where we're going."

"Thank you so much," the woman replied, noticing Skidd sitting in the front next to Katt. "Is the back okay?"

Katt looked over her shoulder at Scarlet and Skidd's wheelchair. "Um…sure."

Walking with a limp, the vixen gripped the side door behind Katt and slid it open. Her eyes widened when she noticed Scarlet inside the vehicle. Despite not being able to place her, she felt like she had known her at some point. Without a word, Scarlet slid over, allowing the injured officer to crawl into the back of the van and close the door behind her.

While Katt pulled back onto the road, the officer looked Scarlet in the eyes and asked her, "Do I know you?"

Scarlet smiled at the vixen and took in her appearance, undeniably similar to her own. Apart from the officer's blue hair in place of her own black locks and her slightly different choice of clothing, precious little separated the two of them in terms of looks. "I think I'm your evil twin,"³ she commented.

The officer narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing that you would understand," Scarlet answered. "Just enjoy the ride while it lasts."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After dropping the police vixen off in front of a hospital in Golstave, the two teams made their way back to the abandoned factory and pulled into the front garage area. At long last, the van rolled to a stop, bringing the madness to a conclusive end. Already exhausted from her work in escaping the base, Katt exhaled and unbuckled her seatbelt, then pushed her door open and set foot on the concrete floor. Everyone else in the van followed suit, with Fox leaping out of the back of the van in a flurry of panic. He recalled that he had allowed Krystal to wear one of Scarlet's catsuits, and he wanted to make sure that he would be in a position to intercede if Scarlet saw her and flew off the handle.

Which was exactly what happened.

The instant Scarlet exited the van, her eyes zeroed in on the blue-furred fox seated against the back wall, bound with ropes, and wearing her catsuit. For a second, she did a double take. Then, she snarled at Fox. "What is that woman doing here, and more importantly, _why is she wearing my catsuit?!"_

Fox held out both of his hands and nervously replied, "It's a long story. The short version is that she turned out to be a spy working for East Fortuna and we've been keeping her here to prevent her from getting away. She's wearing your catsuit because she got shot and bled out all over her clothes, but also because I can't see why you'd ever wear that one."

"Well, I'll have you know that I custom ordered 'that one' and paid more than C400 for it!" Scarlet huffed.

Fox crossed his arms and gave the vixen a nervous smile. "Well, it was a waste, because blue is a terrible color on you. Admit it – it looks great on her."

Scarlet turned her furious eyes towards Krystal and was forced to admit that Fox had a point. "Fine. You win. I won't force her to take it off – for now. But wait, you said that she was a spy for East Fortuna? What are Bruno and his buddy going to do with her?"

At that moment, Fox realized that Scarlet would not take well to his plan for Krystal. Well, he never expected her to agree to his plan from the beginning, but with Scarlet in front of him, he understood just how upset she would become. Fearing that the vixen would punch him, he took a step back and explained, "Um…actually, I made a deal with Hartmann earlier this morning. He wanted to kill her now that they've got her information, but I offered to…uh…take her with us when we leave."

Scarlet's pupils dilated. "You did _what?"_

"Look," said Fox, "While you were in Wolf's base, we got attacked by some of his mercenaries, and Katt was one of them. She told me that her unit's order was to kill everyone in the warehouse, including Krystal. I doubt she's interested in getting back in touch with East Fortuna. Also, I think she likes me."

As Fox feared, Scarlet pulled her arm back and pummeled his shoulder. "Of course she likes you, idiot. What woman wouldn't like a man like you, with your toned muscles, your perfect eyes, and your undeniably awesome job title?"

"Wow, that was unbelievably shallow," Fox quipped.

"Right, but that's all she knows about you right now, so there." She paused for a moment. Then, a ghastly expression appeared on her face. "Oh, please don't tell me you're thinking about recruiting her."

A sheepish smile appeared on Fox's lips. "I actually was considering that."

"This has to be some kind of joke," Scarlet groaned. "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm not planning on being around for your next job, so I can be somewhere else when you make your next stupid decision."

Fox rolled his eyes and smirked. "What's ironic is that you might as well be the living, breathing definition of a rash decision."

"What do you mean, rash? I don't have any rashes."

Letting out a groan, Fox let his face fall forward into his hands. After wallowing in frustration for a few short moments, he looked back at Scarlet and said, "I'm the leader here, and I get to make the decisions. I don't care if you think they're stupid. In a few hours, we're going to get out of Katina; and when we do, I'm taking Katt and Krystal with me. Sorry, Scarlet."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Moron. You're going to regret that."

While the red vixen shook her head and wandered off towards the back of Hartmann's van to go through her suitcase, Fox approached Krystal and knelt next to her. As he gazed into her eyes, an unusual feeling of peace trickled through his body. Knowing that the blue vixen could read his surface-level thoughts, he decided to speak his mind. After looking around and making sure that Scarlet would not see it, he placed his hand on Krystal's shoulder and whispered, "Don't run off on me. I promise that you won't regret it if you just follow my lead. I'm going to make sure everything works out for you."

Krystal nodded, then gazed into Fox's eyes with her near-hypnotic vision. _"I can tell that something's bothering you, Fox. What is it?"_

Fox took a deep breath, then narrowed his eyes. "It's about Rafa—your boss. You know he used to be my teammate, right?"

" _I did, actually,"_ Krystal replied. _"He was quite insistent that you end up dead as soon as possible."_

"What could have possibly made him flip like that?" Fox thought, trying to refrain from audibly yelling. "He was one of my closest teammates! This doesn't make any sense!"

 _"It makes more sense than you think, Fox. If you earn my trust, I'll be willing to explain everything. Don't say this to the husky or the jackal, but I didn't tell them everything I know."_

Fox crossed his arms. "What would it take for you to tell me these things?"

Krystal took a deep breath. _"At least for now, Rafa thinks I'm dead. But soon, he's going to find out that Anthracite's raid failed. I don't want to frighten you, Fox, but when Rafa realizes that I'm alive and not working with him anymore, he's going to send his hitman after me."_

"Krystal, I'm sure you'll be fine. I'm an advanced soldier program graduate."

" _So is he—from the first program, not the watered-down one that you completed. This man is all but invincible. But you want me to tell you what I want, so I'll explain. I need to clear out my apartment in Eladard, I need a place to stay, and I need a way to disappear. If you can help me with those things, I'll tell you everything I know about Rafa and his operation."_

"Couldn't you just take that information to the Cornerian government? They _are_ fighting a war with East Fortuna, you know."

Metaphorical venom seeped from Krystal's eyes. _"I don't like Corneria. They can't be trusted to honor a deal. If I tell you what I know and you report that information to them, I won't complain; but understand that I must remain anonymous."_

"I can accept that," said Fox.

" _Good. Now you know what to do next."_

"Actually, I don't."

Krystal frowned. _"I need you to come with me to Eladard. As I just told you, I need to clear out my apartment so Rafa can't take anything from me. I'm short on time. You see, if Rafa thinks that I'm dead, he's going to do everything he can to confiscate my belongings and empty my bank account."_

Fox's eyebrows lifted. "Krystal, I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that. If you died, wouldn't someone from your family get your money? Rafa isn't entitled to that."

A sudden burst of nervousness flashed across Krystal's face, but only for a moment. _"I don't have any family outside the island where I was born. I never wrote a will, so I don't know where my money would go. What I do know, however, is that Rafa has a master hacker in his employment who_ will _find his way into my bank account and empty it if I don't get to it first."_

"That's…something," Fox muttered. "I have a question, though: what are you willing to pay me if I come with you to Eladard as your bodyguard?"

Krystal's countenance appeared as though it was made of stone. _"I'll pay you in information, and you will have my trust. Believe me—that will go a long way."_

"And if I say 'no?'"

Krystal's harsh expression turned aggressive. _"Then I will find a way to get to Eladard by myself, and I'll take care of my business without your help. Then, I'll go my own way, and you will probably never see me again. And if Rafa's hitman kills me, you will have lost your greatest potential ally, all because the price of a round trip plane ticket was too much for you."_

Fox placed his hands on his hips, reflecting a defensive posture. "I'm almost broke, Krystal."

A defiant spark appeared in the vixen's eyes. _"If you help me, I don't think you'll have much to worry about."_

"What do you mean by that?"

" _Come with me to Eladard, and maybe you'll find out,"_ Krystal replied with a faint, sly grin.

Fox returned a stoic smile before he whispered, "Can you make me a promise?"

 _"What's that?"_

"If I untie you now, will you promise not to try anything?"

Krystal paused for thought, then replied, _"Certainly."_

He held some doubts that Krystal would hold to her word, but nevertheless, he set to work freeing the blue vixen from her bonds. In seconds, his deft fingers untied the ropes binding her hands and feet together. The action caused Krystal to breathe a sigh of relief and stretch her tired limbs before standing up and thanking him. Tossing the ropes aside, Fox rose to his feet and took one final look into Krystal's placid eyes before he noticed Hartmann walking towards him.

Noticing that Fox had freed Krystal, he motioned for him to move a few feet away from her, close to the lunch table that had functioned as Krystal's operating area less than twenty-four hours ago. As Hartmann opened his mouth, Fox noticed a distinct tinge of disappointment on his face – the kind of disappointment that comes from reaching the end of the road and having to move on.

"Fox, it's been a real pleasure working with you. You know, when we came to Katina and set up shop here, the last thing we were expecting was to go straight into Anthracite's base. I would…well, if you didn't have your own thing going, I'd ask if you wanted to join my crew. No, really – I mean that."

Fox extended his hand for Hartmann to shake and replied, "Thanks, Hartmann."

The husky returned Fox's gesture of mutual respect, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin scrap of paper, which he shoved into Fox's other hand. "My contact information," he explained. "Keep it in physical form only. It's the best way to keep that information secure." A smile appeared on his face. "After all, I am talking to a guy who gave away his exact location to both East Fortuna and Anthracite by looking up porn on the web."

As he had with Scarlet, he blurted out, "It wasn't porn – it was artistic."

Hartmann burst out laughing, and when he finished, Fox also heard a quiet giggle from Krystal behind him. Clapping him on the shoulder, Hartmann said, "Relax, Fox – I think most guys have been there before."

"But I'm telling you, it wasn't dirty!"

"Uh huh – just keep telling yourself that. In all seriousness, though, thanks for helping me and my team out. I don't think we could have done it without you. I'll update you on the plane tracking and let you know how it pans out. I think you deserve to know. We're going to be pulling out of here later today, which means that you need to leave, too. Lucas will take you back to the parking lot where you left your rental car. Everything you do after that is up to you."

"Thanks, Hartmann. I get the feeling this isn't the last time we'll see each other," Fox replied.

The husky turned to the side, a faraway look in his eyes. "No, I don't think it is, either."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Back in the warehouse deep within Anthracite's base, Wolf lay on the concrete floor, unable to move on account of the excruciating pain in his back. Frustrated grunts escaped his lips, although he felt it improper to yell for help, especially when the rest of the base was on high alert. More than that, however, he loathed the prospect of appearing weak. The PMC's fearless leader, incapacitated and crying out for someone to care for him? Preposterous.

However, as the minutes ticked past and the sounds of gunfire surrounding the base died down, no one came to his aid. Despite the crippling pain in his back, his mind remained clear. He wondered if Fox and his co-conspirators had been eliminated; and with that thought, he felt tinges of regret. After all, without a mortal enemy to grapple with, his PMC had little purpose for him. For all of his vitriol and jealousy towards the vulpine—ironic considering that Anthracite had become far more powerful and successful than Fox's tiny operation had—he held traces of respect for his hated rival.

His thoughts came to a halt as the sound of approaching steps reached his ears. The pair of boots nearing him made almost no sound. Only his razor-sharp lupine hearing enabled him to detect his visitor. A shadow of a smile crossed his lips.

" _Leon."_

Seconds later, a lanky, green chameleon wearing an overly-tight navy blue bodysuit knelt next to him and stared at him with soulless, glacial eyes that reflected his emotionless, cruel modus operandi.

Unfazed by the lizard's steely gaze, Wolf asked, "What happened?"

Leon turned his head and spat off to the side. Then, he answered with a disturbing, high-pitched, raspy voice. "Fox escaped with Katt and destroyed your prized gunship. Twelve fatalities have been reported."

Wolf closed his eyes, failing to mask the sheer hatred he felt. "Katt? I thought she was killed."

"It would appear not," Leon replied. "Shall I inform the East Fortunan leadership that the warehouse raid was a failure?"

"No. I'm in deep enough shit already. I don't need _him_ screaming at me on top of everything else."

"Roger that."

Wolf shifted on the ground, groaning in pain as he did. Yet, at the same time, another burning question occurred to him. "Leon—where was Panther in all of this? He could have stopped Fox, easily!"

Leon looked away. "I'm afraid that Panther has suffered a ruptured testicle and won't be able to do much of anything for the immediate future."

Wolf stared at the ceiling, struggling to understand what he had just heard. "Excuse me?"

"Indeed," said Leon. "It is most excruciating. Some would say the pain is indescribable."

"We'll see about that," Wolf spat. "Indescribable is the amount of hurt I'm going to put on that runt Fox the next time I see him. Leon, get me to a doctor."

"Your wish is my command."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Originally, Miyu (whom Katt replaced) asked Hartmann if it was a drawbridge. This didn't make a whole lot of sense, since Katt/Miyu worked at the base and would have been privy to that detail.

2 More Sly Cooper references.

3 Scarlet was originally designed as a cross between Carmelita and Catwoman.


	15. The Offer

**Arc III: Erasure**

 _Part 1: The Offer_

 _Chapter 14_

After the long flight back to Corneria, Fox and his newfound teammates disembarked from the _Great Fox_ and exited the Corneria City International Airport's terminal area along with Scarlet. The red vixen bid adieu to the group, although she implied that she would contact Fox before too long.

With Slippy, Katt, and Krystal in tow, Fox led the way out of the terminal and into the airport's long term parking garage, where his oversized, black Velociraptor HPD truck¹ awaited him. It sat near the back left corner of the parking deck's penultimate level; and due to its substantial width, no one dared park on either side of it.

Upon spotting the vehicle, Katt's ears perked up. "Nice wheels, Fox—although I thought you were short on cash."

Fox scratched the back of his neck and explained, "It's paid off. I bought it back when I had money. It kills my wallet every time I take it out, though. Ten miles per gallon and all that."

Walking alongside Fox, Slippy held up a finger and offered an idea. "I could turn it into a hybrid. It would double your gas mileage!"

"Er…no," Fox stuttered. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Ah, too manly to save money and save the planet. I see how it is," Katt smirked.

"Quiet," Fox growled. "I'm entitled to my own vanity, okay?"

Katt shook her head and snickered. Meanwhile behind her, Slippy, and Fox, Krystal followed with unease in every footstep. Truth be told, she wanted to keep her focus off the pressing issues in her life at the moment. Despite having a legitimate passport and legal clearance to travel in Corneria, she felt vulnerable and exposed. She knew better than anyone else how much she meant to Rafa and his organization, and her turning tail on it would inevitably lead to her being hunted down.

" _I'm going to have to find a way to disappear,"_ she reasoned. _"Maybe a disguise will work. Damn it to blazes—why did I have to be allergic to fur dye? It would make this all so much easier—just one fur treatment, and I could do whatever I wanted without being afraid for my life."_

After the group reached Fox's truck, they piled in and headed to Fox's base, situated on the outskirts of the city in one of the metropolis's less traveled areas. Pulling into a parking space near the front doors, Fox turned off the engine and climbed out. The other three followed suit before taking notice of the "base." Its white-painted exterior did nothing to hide the fact of its previous existence as a one-story business multiplex. Fox's red, winged vulpine logo adorned the building's wall above the main entry doors—formerly a side entrance for the last rented space on the leftmost perimeter. The words "Foxfire Enterprises" sat below the red fox icon in a modern, edgy font.

"So, what do you think?" asked Fox, turning towards Slippy and Katt while Krystal shuffled out of the truck.

Katt's ears drooped. "I was expecting, well, an actual _base_ , if you know what I mean…"

Fox bit his lip and looked away for a brief moment. "I've never been interested in running a big operation. This place is perfect for what I'm trying to do. It might not look like much, but it's got five living spaces, a firing range, a workshop, a garage, a loading bay, an exercise area with a lap pool, and a rec room with a bunch of movies and video games."

"Oh. Well, I guess I shouldn't have been so quick to judge."

Still addressing Katt and Slippy, Fox added, "You two can stay in any of the open staff rooms if you want. It's not required, of course. You could rent an apartment downtown if you wanted to, but why would you do that since this is free?"

Katt glanced at the distant skyscrapers of Corneria City and replied, "It's kind of far away from everything."

Slippy nodded in agreement, although he seemed more excited about his new residence than Katt did. Fox noted that his eyes dilated the instant he mentioned the word "workshop."

Fox shrugged in response to Katt. "How do you think I got such a good deal on this place?"

"Eh, fair enough. I'll check it out in there."

While Katt and Slippy walked up to the main entry doors and opened them with the help of their new keycards, Fox turned around and faced Krystal as she wandered around the side of his truck and began slowly approaching him.

His eyes softened and his ears fell slightly. Despite lacking the vixen's empathic abilities, he recognized the presence of intense anxiety in her body language. "Krystal, what's wrong?"

"You know bloody well what's wrong, Fox," Krystal huffed. "The sooner I can get to Eladard, the better. Since I can't use my bank account until I've figured out a way to disappear, I'm waiting on you to buy plane tickets for you and me."

Fox took a reassuring step towards her. "Listen, Krystal—you'll be okay. You're really making too much of a deal out of this."

The anger in her eyes told a different story. Without speaking a single word, she communicated to him that every aspect of her stress had a concrete basis.

"Oh," Fox whispered. "Fine, then. I'll get those tickets as soon as I can. I might be able to get some seats from a cancelation today, but it might not happen. In the meantime, just try to relax. I know you're not an official member of my team, but you can use anything in the base for the time being. Maybe a swim would help take your mind off your problems?"

Krystal responded with a flat voice. "I don't have any clothes for that, Fox."

Traces of red appeared on Fox's face. "Yeah, that's right. Sorry about that. Maybe you should wait until after midnight when everyone else is asleep, then."

"Huh. Maybe."

A brief awkward silence ensued. Fox moved to interrupt it a moment later. He scratched the back of his head, then commented, "I've got to go into the city for an hour or so. I'll be back before evening."

Detecting his surface-level thoughts and emotions, Krystal rolled her eyes and said, "You're visiting your red friend. I can tell."

Fox blushed again. "Dammit—I'm really going to have to put some guidelines on that telepathy of yours. Can we set up some kind of gentleman's agreement where you won't use your crazy mind-powers on me if I agree not to do something you don't like?"

Krystal looked upwards and put a finger on her chin. "Yes, actually. I'll stay out of your mind—unless you change it, of course—as long as you tell _nobody_ that I'm here. The less anyone knows about me, the better."

"I can work with that."

"Thank you, Fox. Now, if you don't mind, would you care to show me around inside the 'base?'" She held up her fingers to make air quotes.

Fox grunted. "Oh, enough. It's my _base_ of operations. Just because it doesn't have missiles sticking out of the sides doesn't mean it's less of a base."

A giggle escaped Krystal's mouth. "I was just toying with you. On a more serious note, though, could you do something else for me?"

Fox returned a wary glare. "What is it this time?"

"Can you come back to the base when you're done visiting Her Redness? I need to talk to you about something, but now isn't the time for it. I don't want to hold you up."

"Okay. I'll do that," Fox sighed.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After introducing Katt, Slippy, and Krystal to Miyu and Fay and showing the three around the "base," Fox exited the building and climbed back into his planet-annihilating chariot of pure testosterone. Closing the driver's side door and turning the key in the ignition, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened his text messaging app and read over the SMS message sent to him shortly after he left the CCI airport².

 _From: Scarlet_

 _1:46 PM: "Hey, hot stuff. Feel like stopping in at my place downtown later? I just wanted to say thanks for saving my life. I didn't do it at the airport because it would've looked weird for me to be gushing all over you. Sometime around 3:30, maybe? Pretty please?_ (😿)"

Sliding his phone into a cupholder in his truck's center console, Fox reversed out of his parking space and turned onto the road that ran in front of his base. As he did, his mind drifted to his upcoming meeting.

" _I have an uncomfortable feeling about this. Why do I feel like she's going to try to force herself on me? I probably should have just texted back and said something like 'You don't need to thank me—I was just doing my job,' or some other token BS like that. I couldn't do that, though. She wants to show her gratitude, and I shouldn't keep her from expressing it."_

Fox's drive from the base to Scarlet's downtown apartment took nearly a half hour thanks to the metropolis's nightmarish traffic and his massive truck's lack of maneuverability. After inching his way through the ticket gate leading into Scarlet's parking garage and somehow not taking out the entire arm mechanism, he found a parking space near the top of the garage.

After exiting the garage and entering a passcode which Scarlet had provided him with, he walked into the main high-rise complex that contained several hundred upscale rooms. He located the nearest elevator and rode it to the top floor, where Scarlet resided.

" _Go figure—Scarlet_ would _be the one to rent a penthouse all for herself. Why couldn't I have been adopted by freaking royals and given a giant trust fund to live off of? Uh, sorry about that, Dad—no offense or anything."_

Despite having never visited Scarlet's rented space before, he located her room number in short order, mostly because she occupied the last room on the top floor's left hallway. Approaching her door, he stopped short of it and looked around him. Rich carpet covered the floor beneath his feet, and the sides of the hallways looked to be decorated with etched wood. In reality, he cared little about those details—he simply found them intriguing at the moment because they provided an excuse not to knock on Scarlet's door.

" _Man, I really hope she's dressed when she opens up."_

Shaking his head, he knocked on the door. The sound of bare vulpine foot pads caressed the carpet from inside the room. A moment later, the door swung open.

"Hey, hot stuff."

" _Oh crap."_

Confirming his fears, Scarlet had chosen to ditch her normal catsuit in favor of a slim-fitting, crimson red nightgown that came up short of mid-thigh level. Due to him being used to her normal outfit, seeing so much of her natural, close-cropped fur fried his brain for a moment.

"Uh, hi Scarlet," he blundered, scratching the back of his head.

Scarlet wasted no time in responding. As she did, her lips parted into an amorous smile. "Thanks for coming, Fox. I could have just left it at a text, but I _really_ wanted to show you how thankful I am for you saving my life. I don't know what would have happened to me if Wolf had kept me in his base for much longer. One of his high-ranking staff started making passes at me the day before you showed up, and I think he would have violated me before long."³

Fox blushed. "It's not a problem, Scarlet. You're a friend. There's no way I would leave you for dead… _even though you probably would have if I had been in your situation."_ He trailed off, choosing not to articulate his thoughts into words.

"What was that?" asked Scarlet, her ears on end.

"Nothing. Just thinking out loud, that's all. Anyway, is there something else going on here? I know you didn't have me drive all the way over to your place just so you could say thanks and then tell me to leave."

A flicker of lust appeared in Scarlet's eyes. "Oh, of course not. I have something to give you. You know, just as a way of saying 'thanks.' I think you'll like it."

Fox felt his blood pressure rising. Nervousness in his voice, he asked, "What did you have in mind?"

The red vixen seemed to notice his unease, and her posture changed to reflect it. She pulled her legs closer together and held her hands open in a welcoming, yet uncertain gesture. Her voice lost its sultry undertones and took on a meek property.

"Blowjob?"

Fox's eyes bulged out. Caught unaware, he choked on his own saliva and stumbled backwards. Coughing profusely, he turned to the side to catch his breath. All the while, the skin under his fur turned a shade of red so vibrant that it almost matched Scarlet's nightgown.

" _Cough_ …Scarlet… _cough_ … I don't think you… _cough_ …understand."

"Understand _what?"_ the vixen yelped, not expecting his response to be so profoundly negative.

"Just because we did it once when we were teenagers⁴ doesn't mean that I'm still interested. I'm an adult. These things have consequences now."

Scarlet's visage became even more unsettled. "Oh no—you don't have any diseases, do you?"

Exacerbating the situation even further, Fox turned redder. "No—that's not what I meant at all! What I'm trying to say is that I'm not just going to stick it in your mouth when we're not even _thinking about_ dating."

"But we could be," Scarlet offered.

"Scarlet, no," Fox fired back. "Please don't take this the wrong way—you're a great friend. I like you. But you're not the kind of person I want to have a relationship with."

Fox perceived flames of anger welling up inside her, but sorrow and dismay seemed more prominent. "I…I'm not?"

"I'm sorry. I need someone who's good at sharing life, not just sharing their body."

His implication fired a flaming arrow at her heart. A faint tear appeared in her right eye. "Fox—I…I'm not nearly as promiscuous as you think I am. It's just a game."

Fox shook his head. "I don't believe you. You wouldn't wear your catsuits if you didn't want people fantasizing about what's underneath. All your lewd comments would fall completely flat if you weren't actually interested in what you were saying. If you're trying to play a game, you've already lost because you've _become_ the game."

Scarlet froze. Her ears drooped, and her plush tail fell between her legs. Staring at her feet, she took a step back and muttered, "Thanks for nothing. Go away." With that, she slammed her door in Fox's face.

The instant the door closed, she turned around and climbed onto her king-sized bed. She crossed her legs and sat on the mattress with her back hunched over and her ears lowered in grief.

" _Dammit, why did that have to backfire so badly?! I thought he'd be all over that idea! And now I ran him off and he isn't going to want to talk to me anymore, just when I had the chance to finally get something started with him!"_

She halted her thoughts and allowed a tear to drip out of her eye.

" _Why do you have to suck so much, Scarlet? And what's worse is that anyone hearing me say that would immediately think of a different kind of sucking. Maybe Fox is right. I'm just a walking innuendo who's not good for anything other than making guys horny. I fucking hate myself. Dammit—I can't even use the word 'fuck' without it being in the wrong context! What is wrong with me?"_

Clenching her fists, she climbed off her bed and stomped into her closet. Entire racks of catsuits and boots stood before her, with virtually no 'ordinary' clothes to be found. Despondency raged inside her as she stared at the tantalizing garments designed for no other purpose than sex appeal. She let out a feral snarl, then ripped a section of hanging catsuits off their rack and tossed them to the ground. She stormed out of the closet seconds later, coming face to face with herself in her bathroom mirror.

With a quick yank, she pulled her nightgown over her head and took stock of her own body. Every aspect of her figure struck even her as irresistibly beautiful; yet the lack of any real payoff for the effort in toning her body instilled a sense of fury in her.

" _I don't understand it—my hair is cut perfectly, I have amazing tits, I brush, trim, and condition my fur to make it as soft as a freaking pillow, and I've got legs most girls would kill for."_ She kneaded the slight amount of fat around her midsection and commented to herself, _"I guess I could lose a little weight, but I thought Fox would appreciate what having a bit of meat on my bones would do for the rest of my body."_

She lowered her head, not wanting to look at herself anymore. _"All of that, and I'm not good enough for him? What could he possibly want?"_

As the seconds ticked by, the answer made itself known to her.

" _He doesn't really care what I look like. It's just a bonus to him. What he really wants is a reliable friend who can help him live life. What am I supposed to do about that? Stop being me? I'm never going to be okay with being someone's stupid little housewife. I can't do boring or predictable. Life sucks unless you grab it by the balls. Dammit! Not another innuendo! What am I supposed to do to make him love me?"_

To her dismay, the answer to that question was not particularly forthcoming.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

While beating a quick exit from Scarlet's apartment complex, Fox shook his head and thought to himself, _"I should have known that's what she was planning. I feel bad for her, though. She wasn't expecting that response. I can tell it messed her up. I should probably try to talk to her about it later, but…well, maybe not. She's not going to want to discuss it. I'll admit that what she offered actually sounded pretty good, but come on! I'm past the point of random promiscuity. I'm not my dad."_

Climbing into his truck, he slid his key into the ignition. Before he could turn it, his phone vibrated inside his pocket. He pulled it out, only to see "RESTRICTED" listed on his caller ID. Swallowing, he stared at the word. In most situations, a 'RESTRICTED' number meant one of three things: that he was being called by a politician, a high-profile businessman, or a military officer.

"I hope this is important," he grumbled. Swiping his finger across the phone's screen, he raised it to ear level and answered it. "Hello?"

A firm, authoritative voice answered. _"Good afternoon. I need to speak with Fox James McCloud. Do I have the right number?"_

"Um, yes," Fox replied. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

 _"I am Brigadier General Maury Grimswell of the Cornerian Army, overseeing the East Fortunan counterattack operation, and I have some news specifically for you."_

Fox had a sinking feeling about what the officer had to say. Pursing his lips, he asked, "What is it, sir?"

Grimswell paused for a few seconds too long, then began, _"A few hours ago, the East Fortunan rebels launched an attack on our position near the border of East and West Fortuna. They unleashed a weaponized chemical agent in our ranks, killing hundreds of our men. We had no choice but to retreat. Unfortunately, your father didn't make it out in time. If I'm honest, the best case scenario for him is that he was captured by the East Fortunans, and the worst case scenario is that he succumbed to the toxins introduced into the area. I'm truly sorry, Fox. There was nothing we could do."_

"I'm sure – 'no man left behind' and all that," Fox muttered through clenched teeth, even though he wanted to scream at the general through the phone. "Thanks for letting me know." Without another word, he hung up and jammed the phone back into his pocket, then held his head in his hands, unable to process the horrific turn of events. In addition to the pain of losing his father in one way or another, he realized that his efforts in Katina to track Anthracite's chemical weapons had been for nothing.

 _"Is this…is this really happening right now?"_

Part of him wanted to retreat to Scarlet's room and break the news to her, considering that she and James seemed to have an inexplicable friendship. Yet, he feared breaking her heart even further; and because of this, he decided to keep the news to himself for the time being. In the blink of an eye, his frustrated mood collapsed into a nihilistic haze. Loveless, on the verge of bankruptcy, and now completely orphaned, he felt as if life itself had thrown him out of a plane and handed him a faulty parachute.

He rubbed his eyes and groaned, even though his internal response would have been better articulated as a primal scream, raging against the heavens and the cruel fate responsible for wrecking his life. At this point, one overriding urge revealed itself: to exact revenge on Rafa Ortega for everything he had done to him and his former team. In the midst of his rage, he recalled his next planned action, which was to return to his base and speak with Krystal. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to wander into the distant wilderness and scream obscenities at the sky⁵, but life refused to slow down and allow him time to regroup.

So, with malice and sorrow in mind, he cranked his truck's engine and lumbered back to his base. After parking, he walked up to the building's front doors and wiped his eyes. He couldn't let Miyu and Fay see his true colors. At the moment, he wanted to speak with no one about what he had just learned. He realized that Krystal would clue into his misery in seconds, but somehow he felt unbothered by that fact.

He flashed his ID in front of the base's door scanner and entered the building. He walked past Fay and Miyu at the receptionist's desk, not bothering to interact apart from giving the two ladies a subtle nod that seemed to raise their suspicion. As he passed and left their line of sight, Fay called out, "Fox, is something wrong?"

Fox gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "Of course there is," he snapped back, not turning his head to look over his shoulder. Leaving Fay and Miyu to decipher his mood, he turned left into the nearest adjacent hallway, which contained two rooms. The first had formerly been left unoccupied on account of the second room, which belonged to his former teammate Rena. Due to her absence, however, Fox chose to use the first room on the left side of the hallway as Krystal's temporary quarters. Approaching the door, he rapped on it and waited for Krystal to respond.

" _You can come in, Fox."_

Fox sighed. In a way, he appreciated the blue vixen's telepathy. It made explaining things much simpler. She could comprehend details on the level of thoughts and emotions, with the same understanding that Fox himself possessed. _"Seems like that would be a great relationship aid."_

He turned Krystal's doorknob and stepped into her room. To his surprise, Krystal sat on the edge of her rudimentary mattress, wrapped in her bedsheets. The reason for her strange apparel occurred to him a moment later when he looked to his left and saw Scarlet's blue catsuit folded on a small chair in the front left corner of the room.

"Oh, uh…" Fox stammered, "I probably should have tried to find some new clothes for you. That catsuit's all you have, isn't it?"

Krystal sighed. "It is. I don't have anything else. Hartmann and his friend didn't save my luggage like he did yours. So, that's why I'm wearing a sheet. That catsuit gets stifling after a while."

"I can imagine. I'll ask Miyu and Fay if they have any clothes they'd let you borrow."

"That would be delightful," replied Krystal.

Fox took a deep breath. "Before I do that, though, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Krystal shifted on the mattress. In the process, part of her bedsheet-coat slipped down over her bare right shoulder. "I have a request for you."

Fox curled the corner of his mouth. "What kind of request?"

"Look, you're going to think I'm being paranoid, but you don't understand the kind of danger I'm in. If it's not too much of a problem, I'd like you to stay in the base overnight with me to make sure no one tries to break in. And if you don't mind, I'd really prefer you to stay in this room."

"Krystal, I don't know about that…"

"I didn't say 'share a bed,' you pillock. I just want to make sure I'm protected from Rafa's hitman. He could be coming for me right now. Could you do that, please?"

Fox stared emotionlessly back at her.

In response, Krystal did her best puppy-dog eyes while slouching forward and curling up into a posture of mock fear. "Pleeeease?"

The adorableness was too much for him. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll blow up an air mattress and stay in your room with you tonight. No one is going to hurt you regardless of if I do that or not, but if it makes you feel better, I'll do it."

Krystal smiled. "Thank you, Fox. You're a real gentleman."

Fox blushed. "Glad you think so."

Krystal's grateful expression faded momentarily, replaced by a concerned stare. "Fox, something's wrong, isn't it?"

"I thought we made an agreement about you not reading my mind."

The blue vixen lowered her ears. "I'm sorry—I couldn't help it. Your mind is really radiating distress. It was impossible for me not to notice."

Letting out a huff, Fox turned to the side and stared at the room's left wall. "After I left Scarlet's place, I got a call from a Cornerian general telling me that my dad is either dead or in an East Fortunan prison camp."

Terror laced Krystal's voice. "What? How?"

Fox stared straight at her with an intensity that he felt could have bored a hole through her skull. "Chemical weapons."

Krystal sat in silence for three seconds, but the calm ended immediately afterwards. "Damn it! I explicitly told Rafa not to use weapons of mass destruction! I was bloody clear on that point!"

"What makes you think he had any reason to listen to _you?"_ asked Fox, crossing his arms in frustration. "He and his master Christina are the ones in charge of East Fortuna, not you."

Krystal's skin suddenly turned eerily pale. It regained its normal color a moment later, but her voice sounded shaken. "I…You're right. I just thought…"

"Thought _what?"_

"I thought that he would listen to me. I was one of his most trusted associates."

"Clearly not trusted enough," Fox grumbled.

Staring at the floor, Krystal whispered back, "Apparently not."

A protracted silence descended over the room. A full minute into the awkward lack of conversation, Fox scratched the back of his head and turned towards the door. "I'm going to see if Miyu or Fay have any clothes you can wear. I'll be back later."

Krystal forced a smile to her face, but both she and Fox knew that it was not genuine. As Fox walked through her door and closed it behind him, Krystal leaned back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Despondent thoughts raced through her mind at the realization that without knowing it, she had been party to an organization and a leadership structure willing to use illegal weapons of immense suffering to ensure its success.

" _How did Rafa hide those chemical weapons from me? I never knew they existed. Could he also be hiding something else? I know about the cutting-edge equipment he commissioned, but what if he's also working on some other more nefarious things, like biological weapons…or nuclear missiles?"_

Her body shuddered at the thought, as well as the realization that regardless of her own opposition to Rafa's WMD development, her name would be lumped in with the guilty parties when the time for judgment came. The thought filled her with rage and incoherent fury. She clenched her fists, feeling the urge to bare her claws and shred her bedsheets to pieces. However, after realizing that doing so would leave her both naked and without a blanket for the night, she refrained.

As she stared at the ceiling, a singular realization occurred to her. _"I can't let Fox know the truth. He'd never forgive me. I have too much blood on my hands. All I can do is try to bury the past and start over, pretending that none of this ever happened. I suppose it will be easier once I come up with a new persona to keep myself hidden from Rafa and his goons._

" _But what kind of persona? For starters, I'll definitely need to wear a mask and cover up my fur. I suppose that would make me look rather intimidating. Seems like a good thing. I'll have to make sure I back up the look with convincing mannerisms. Wearing a mask and covering up would also let me get away with avoiding social contact. After all, who would want to talk to a menacing bad-arse with a gun and a mask? I need a name, though. I can't call myself 'Krystal.' The whole idea is to make Rafa think 'Krystal' is dead, or at least gone into hiding._

 _I'm not great with names, though. Maybe I can think of something? After Rafa disowned me, I realized that I made a Faustian bargain with him. It backfired, and now I feel like I've been cursed—punished for my mistakes. Cursed? That's interesting. It's not a name, though. Maybe if I spelled it differently—used a K instead of a C. 'Kursed.' Bloody Nora—that is positively sophomoric. However…if I played the part correctly, no one would ever confuse me for Krystal. That's an idea. I'll have to think more about that one."_

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Wolf's infirmary was normally a hotspot in Anthracite Security's private military complex, considering the wide range of dangerous operations the PMC's contractors embarked on. However, peace and quiet cloaked the room more than usual. After the damage to the base and Wolf's own injuries, the lupine leader lounged on a medical bed inside the white, sterilized room. Panther lay on a matching bed on the opposite side of the room, nursing the alarming damage to his reproductive system inflicted by Katt's combat boot.

Thanks to the extent of his injuries, Wolf wore a large compression bandage that covered most of his torso. The base's doctor claimed that he had suffered minor spinal trauma; and that while he would be able to have Wolf back up to speed relatively soon with the help of physical therapy, the lupine would be out of commission for the next week at the very least.

With a groan, Wolf lifted his head and stared at Panther from across the room. "I'm still pissed off at you, you know."

The feline grimaced. "Sorry boss—I knew I should have left Katt alone."

Wolf rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. You just let your smaller head think for you, like you always do. One of these days, that's going to get you killed—and it might be me who does it. Understand?"

Panther sighed insincerely. "Yeah…"

The disingenuous response prompted Wolf to sneer and roll his eyes again. He opened his mouth to launch a particularly crude insult, but his phone rang before he could speak.

"Great. I wonder who this is. It'd better not be Raf… Shit."

Gingerly reaching over to the small tray mounted to his bed, he grasped his phone and stared at the screen, which displayed the extension linked to Rafa Ortega's auxiliary phone line. All the while, Panther looked on with nervous anticipation.

With a heavy sigh, Wolf answered the call. "Hello?"

" _Buen mañana, mi amigo,"_ Rafa replied. _"I hate to interrupt your busy schedule, but I need an update on the warehouse raid from two days ago."_ Wolf noted that his voice exuded a complete lack of concern for his "busy schedule" and reeked of complete self-interest.

"Oh yeah, that."

Rafa's voice became more intense than before. _"Yes. What about_ that? _Your disturbing silence on the outcome of the raid is making me think that it was a failure. Can you confirm that the operation was a success? I need to know what happened so I can plan my next steps."_

Wolf grimaced and stared at Panther, even though he had nothing to do with the raid's failure. As much as he wanted to lie and declare that the raid had been a complete success, Wolf knew that Rafa would uncover the truth later; and when he did, the outcome would be even more unfavorable. In a weak voice that betrayed his usual machismo, Wolf answered, "The raid was a failure. All except one of my troops were killed, and I have no idea if they managed to kill anyone in that warehouse. I'm guessing that the answer is probably no, based on…uh, _something_ that happened yesterday."

Silence.

Then, Rafa screamed, _"¡Hijo de puta! I can't believe you could let them slip through your fingers like that! Fox is still alive, and the toxic blue thorn is still stuck in my side! Gah! You are dead to me! Do you hear that? Dead to me! You had one job, and you blew it like the little f…"_

Wolf hung up and tossed his phone onto the floor. The back panel flew off and the battery fell out when the device hit the ground. This prevented him from having to endure the possibility of Rafa calling back and continuing his tirade.

"That went well," Panther commented.

Wolf glared at his number three with pure hatred in his eyes. "You're lucky that I'm half-paralyzed and can't come over there to choke you out."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Struggling to contain his rage, Rafa Ortega sat in an office chair in front of a massive suite of electronic displays, readouts, and buttons inside the main East Fortunan command tower. Behind him, numerous officers punched in data at computer-equipped desks, while servers whirred in the background.

The dull-furred vulpine closed his eyes and crossed his arms in a vain attempt at venting his frustrations. No matter, though—he still had a way to make things right after learning of Wolf's unacceptable failure to kill Fox McCloud and Krystal in one fell swoop. That opportunity would not come again easily, but Rafa had much more faith in his fallback plan.

The plan in question walked through a difficult-to-see door in the back right corner of the control room, close to the rightmost edge of a massive Plexiglas window that offered Rafa a view of his entire command base. Two individuals entered the room. In terms of appearance, they could not have been more different. The first was a jet black fox who wore an intimidating, form-fitting set of power armor, complete with a helmet that masked his eyes while following the contours of his vulpine skull⁶. The second person looked far less spectacular. A rather short shiba inu⁷, he wore a simple black sweater, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of thick black frames with the glass so dark they won't even know your name⁸. Actually, you will know his name, but not just yet.

Anyhow, the two approached Rafa, who opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair while keeping his arms crossed.

The shiba spoke first, with a refined, yet gritty voice that could have scored him a voiceover role for an action-themed animation. "You called?"

"Yes," Rafa muttered under his breath. "Since Wolf had the chance of a lifetime and shat on it, the source of all my operation's problems is still alive."

The shorter canine cocked his head. "And who is that supposed to be?"

Rafa threw up his arms. "It's Krystal, dammit!"

The black furred fox spoke this time. Somehow, his voice managed to be even more powerful and foreboding than the shiba's. "I see. You want her dead. Well, you've come to the right place." He turned to the short canine and high fived him with enough volume to pin Rafa's ears against his skull.

"Yes, yes," Rafa replied, shaking his head to alleviate the sudden ringing in his ears. "This job requires both of your skill sets, so listen closely."

The fox and the shiba fell silent and stared at their boss.

"First, if there's one thing I know about Krystal, it's that she's got a few goodies that she won't be able to live without. If she's alive—and there's a good chance that she is—she'll be heading to her apartment in Eladard as soon as possible to grab them. You're already at a time disadvantage because by now, she'll have had two days to make it back to her home. Still, there's a chance you'll be able to get there before she does. So, get to Eladard ASAP and assess the situation once you arrive. Break into her room, and if she's not there, ransack the place until you find a rare vintage handgun and a jar full of seeds. And of course, kill her if you see her."

"That's really random," the shiba commented.

"Trust me—it would make sense if I went into more detail, which I won't," said Rafa, directing his attention specifically to the shiba. "Once you've done that, Doggo, I need you to hack into her bank account. It's with the Bank of Macbeth. I'll give you the details when you get to Eladard. I don't care how you get in—just do it. Once you get in, find out if she's logged in since yesterday or made any recent transactions. If she hasn't, there's a chance she's dead; and if that's the case, I'll take it from there. Otherwise, I'll leave it up to you to track her down and make sure she ends up dead. ¿Comprende?"

"Yeah, comprende,"⁹ Doggo replied, scratching his head.

The black fox next to him offered a comment. "Let's kick some ass."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTE(S):_

1 It's a Ford SVT Raptor, specifically the pre-2017 version, before they replaced the awesome 6.2L V8 with the Eco(Weenie)Boost V6. Seriously, who puts a V6 in a $70,000 truck?!

2 This is, of course, the shorthand airport sign for "Corneria City International Airport." It will be referred to as CCI from here on.

3 Is it _really_ that hard to figure out who she's talking about?

4 This statement plays off the headcanon that Fox and Scarlet were each other's first sexual partners. The ignominious credit for coming up with that idea goes to Sheppard_SD.

5 In the original _S_ _ierra Foxtrot_ , this is more or less what Fox did.

6 This is Fyvve, a parody of Syxx from SyxxFox's Armageddon Soul series. Syxx himself (at least his name) is an altered spelling of Sixx, also known as Frank Carlton Serafino Ferrano, Jr. or Nikki Sixx—bassist of Mötley Crue and founder of Sixx:A.M. "Fyvve" was chosen as his name because Nikki Sixx has mentioned that some people mockingly call him "Nikki Five."

7 This is Doggo Sanchez, action hacker for hire. He was first seen in the _Sierra Foxtrot Adventures_ short _"Action Hacker."_

8 ZZ Top, _Cheap Sunglasses,_ copyright 1979 Warner Bros Records.

9 Technically, this is not the proper form of the verb "comprendir." The correct version would be the "I" form, comprendo.


	16. The Ryse of Fyvve

**Arc III: Erasure**

 _Part 2: The Ryse of Fyvve_

 _Chapter 15_

* * *

A dark frown dominated Fox's face as he and Krystal disembarked from their flight at the Eladard International Airport. Fox's watch indicated a time of 10:29 PM. Neither of the two spoke much, with Fox virtually operating on autopilot as he led Krystal to the airport's car rental area and picked up the keys to the rented sedan he had arranged for. Krystal's refusal to pay for anything incensed him, but he willed himself to play along with it for the time being.

His anger, however, was not related to Krystal. She simply happened to be in his line of fire. As she and Fox made their way out of the airport and located the rental car lot, Krystal put a firm hand on Fox's shoulder and asked, "Are you still upset about your dad?"

"Are you kidding me?" Fox snapped, turning towards Krystal. "Wouldn't you be? I'm not just going to get over this in a single day! I'm not the _Oasis_ version of you, for crying out loud.¹"

Krystal bit her lip and stared at the ground before she turned away from Fox and looked around her. In every direction, ultra-modern skyscrapers blanketed the nighttime landscape. Indecipherable native glyphic writing decorated many of the buildings with varying shades of searing neon color². Despite the claustrophobic nature of the city-state, the air smelled fresh enough—at least, it did not seem unhealthy.

Fox's voice caused her attention to snap back to the task at hand. "Come on, let's go—I thought you were in a hurry here." The red vulpine stood next to a dull blue sedan of the make and model preferred by rental agencies the world over.

"I _am_ in a hurry," Krystal huffed, striding over to the car. "But I'm nervous as blazes right now. Rafa's hitman could be lying in wait for me inside my apartment tower."

Fox rolled his eyes. "That's what I'm here for." He tossed the rental car keys over the roof of the car towards Krystal. "You drive since you know where we're going."

Catching the keys, Krystal let out an indignant huff and declared, "You are underestimating the man we are dealing with. That's the worst thing you can do for yourself when you're facing an enemy."

Following Krystal's example, Fox opened his car door and dropped into the passenger seat while the blue vixen started the car. "Krystal, I fought my way out my rival's main base with only three teammates helping me. I think I can handle Rafa's hitman if he decides to show up."

Krystal glanced at him out of the corner of her eye while she shifted the car into drive and navigated towards the road leading out of the airport. "I'm warning you—you don't understand who we're dealing with. This is no ordinary man."

Fox sighed, realizing that he would be getting nowhere fast with his nervous lady-friend. He leaned back in his seat and glanced out the window at the vast cityscape surrounding him.

The city-state of Eladard sat on a tiny isthmus between southern Katina and northeast Macbeth, creating a choke point between the two nations. Its harbors on both its eastern and western edges—in addition to a canal that enabled globe-circling by way of boat—set up Eladard as the ideal place to conduct trade and international commerce. The state's business-friendly policies took advantage of its geographic position, thus leading to the city-state becoming one of the richest countries per capita on Planet Lylat.

"Interesting place," Fox commented, glancing at Krystal out of the corner of his eye. "I've only been here once or twice before."

"Indeed," replied Krystal. "It's not quite as pretty as it looks on the surface, though. The native Eladardians are in a constant cultural power struggle with the multinational corporations that own most of this city. The companies favor the natives over immigrants, but they're still not happy with being owned by foreigners. Native Eladardians are _very_ proud of their heritage, you see. That's why all the road signs are bilingual."

"Is that also why there's so much neon?"

Krystal smiled. "I think so."

"You know, my first teammate was a native Eladardian. I'm going to miss her the most—apart from Fara, at least."

The blue vixen sighed and looked out the left side window. A thought came to her mind, but she had no intent to verbalize it. Half a minute passed before she offered her condolences. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Fox crossed his arms. "After I kill Rafa and the people who enabled him and convinced him to turn on me, you won't need to be sorry anymore."

The skin beneath Krystal's fur went pale, but because her face already possessed a good amount of white fur, Fox did not notice. Her voice taking on a nervous property, Krystal pointed up the road ahead and said, "We'll be at my apartment building in three minutes. I'm going to park on the street outside the tower since we won't be in there very long."

"Really?" Fox turned in her direction with one eyebrow raised. "I thought you were going to clear out your whole apartment."

Krystal shook her head. "I don't have the time. I only need two things—and maybe a few clothes. The ones Miyu gave me are a bit small." Her eyes roved over the black tank top and dark blue short shorts given to her by the slim feline.

"Do you need any help with those two things?" asked Fox.

"No. I can handle it. Just stand outside my room and keep watch while I grab them. One of them is going to take a few minutes. It's my gun, you see. To get it onto the airplane, I'll have to take it apart and put it in an airline-approved case."

Fox's eyes widened slightly. "I have a lot of experience disassembling firearms. I could speed things up if you'd like that."

Despite the fact that Fox's offer had the potential to save her life, Krystal nervously shook her head and replied, "N…No—I think I can handle it."

"Whatever." Fox shrugged. "Look—I know you told me you'd be a bit more willing to talk after we got out of Eladard, but you're not making it any easier for me to trust you with all the evasive answers you've been giving me."

Despondent frustration materialized on Krystal's face. "These aren't details I can trust just anybody with, okay?"

"Fine," Fox relented. "You're not helping yourself by being secretive, though."

"I promise that it'll be worth it in the end," Krystal affirmed. At the exact same time, however, she thought to herself, _"This is not going to end well."_

Silence filled the car's interior until Krystal motioned towards a twenty-floor tower with a piece of red trim that jutted out from its side. In spite of the downtown traffic that remained heavy long after sundown, she spotted a parking space near the tower's front door and darted into it. Turning off the engine, she glanced at Fox. "I'm trusting you, Fox. Don't let me down."

Despite being tempted to roll his eyes, Fox nodded and replied, "Don't worry. I've got your back."

"Thank you."

With that, Krystal turned off the engine and opened her door. She looked around, as if expecting something nefarious to appear at any given second. Then, she darted towards the apartment tower's sliding glass doors. Fox followed her, and while doing so, he noted her extreme unease.

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to help you take apart your gun?"

Krystal hissed and glanced over her shoulder. "No. I've got this."

Fox shook his head while Krystal walked into the tower's atrium, decorated with elegant tile floors and wood veneer walls. The left wall contained two elevators. The vixen marched over to the lift on the right and pushed the button to go up. The doors slid open immediately, and the two foxes stepped in. Krystal wasted no time in pressing the button marked '13.'

"Thirteen, huh?" Fox commented. "I guess Eladardians aren't as superstitious as other people."

Krystal said nothing.

"I've got a question," Fox ventured.

"What is it this time?" Krystal huffed.

"You said you needed to grab something else, other than your gun and some clothes."

"Yes."

"Would you like me to help you carry it out?"

Krystal sighed, a trace of anger in her eyes. "No—I'm perfectly able to carry it all myself. Please, just protect me, and stop asking so many questions. Now is not a good time for me to answer them. I'm really on edge."

"I could have told you that."

Letting out a quick yip, Krystal bared her teeth and smacked Fox in the chest. "Shut your trap. You don't understand how much danger we're in."

"You're right—this elevator could get stuck at any moment, and then the fire department would have to come out and rescue us."

"No, you…fine. I'm done talking. Just…guard my bloody door and don't let anyone near it."

Mercifully for Krystal, the elevator reached the thirteenth floor and opened. She bolted out in the blink of an eye and jogged towards a door near the end of the hallway outside the elevator area. With Fox behind her, she reached the door and tapped in an entry code on an electronic lock mounted in the place of a normal keyhole. The lock made a 'clunk' sound, allowing Krystal to open it. Prying open the door, the vixen turned around and faced Fox. "All right. Stay right here. This won't take too long. I know right where everything…"

A look of abject horror appeared on Krystal's face.

Fox's fur stood on end in response to her sudden terror. "What's wrong?"

"He's…he's here. He's about to enter the building."

Krystal gave Fox no time to ask questions. Slamming the door in Fox's face, she raced into her room. Outside the door, Fox rolled up his shirtsleeves and stepped into the hallway. He moved away from Krystal's door to avoid making his purpose obvious, but he stayed close enough to prevent anyone from gaining access to her room.

" _She really wasn't kidding. I'm surprised."_

A multitude of thoughts raced through Fox's mind, mostly related to the fastest ways to deal with Krystal's would-be-assassin. Trouble was, Krystal had never actually told him what Rafa's hitman looked like; and he lacked the ability to ask her at the present moment.

" _I guess I should be on the lookout for someone who looks evil. But how? You can't judge a book by its cover. How do I know Rafa's hitman isn't an old guy or something?"_

As the seconds ticked by, the same feeling that Krystal dealt with permeated Fox's being—the feeling of utter dread and the inability to do anything about its root cause. Not knowing who to be expecting or what to do when he appeared, he leaned against the wall in a posture of mock confidence. Thanks to his inability to carry dangerous items through airport security, he lacked weapons—apart from his fists, of course. He wondered what manner of lethal objects Rafa's hitman would be carrying.

Then, he heard the telltale 'ding' of the nearby elevator. His ears spiked up, and his already-twitchy nerves went on high alert. Around the nearest corner, two canids appeared—a black-furred fox of his exact height, and a short shiba inu. The two wore similar outfits comprised of dark blue jeans and form-fitting black t-shirts that hinted at their combined physical prowess.

" _Damn! She didn't tell me there would be_ two _of them!"_

Still trying to hide the purpose of his presence in the hallway, Fox continued leaning against the wall as the two approached him. Both of them stared at him, but said nothing until they turned their attention to Krystal's door and walked towards it. At that point, Fox took a step away from the wall. The movement was not lost on the black fox and the shiba.

"Back off, weaksauce. We don't want any trouble," the shiba warned, stopping in his tracks and turning towards Fox.

Fox bared his teeth. "What did you just call me?"

Sighing, the black fox rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Look, pal—you've got two options: get the f*ck out of here, or have the sh*t beaten out of you."

"Did you just censor³ yourself?" Fox blurted out.

"He does that," the shiba replied. "He's dead serious, though. Get out, or else."

Instead of speaking, Fox chose a nonverbal response. He stepped forward and punched the shiba between the eyes. His fist packed such a force that his plastic frames collapsed, and the black lenses popped out and fell to the floor. The canid stumbled backwards, but Fox had no time to prepare a follow-up attack. The black fox pulled a black knife out of his back pocket and charged him. The black vulpine swung at him, but Fox grabbed the inside of his opponent's knife-wielding hand and wrenched the weapon free. It fell to the ground at Fox's feet. He lacked the time to grab it.

The shiba tossed his destroyed shades to the ground and leaped into a back hook kick that crashed into Fox's chest and forced him against the wall. The black fox took advantage of the situation and heaped a flurry of punches on Fox's muzzle. At the exact same moment, however, a flurry of clunking noises reverberated through the walls from inside Krystal's room. Fox tried fighting back against his opponents, but they left him precious little room to strike. By sheer force and blind luck, Fox managed to swing a punch in the direction of the shiba. His knuckles crashed into bridge of the orange canid's nose, stopping his attacks momentarily.

However, the tiny lapse in time allowed the black fox to reach down and pick his knife off the floor. He brandished it just as the shiba regrouped and balled up his fists in preparation for additional haymakers.

" _Oh, this just got really bad."_

At that moment, Krystal's door flew open, and the blue vixen sprinted out with a clear plastic jar and several dresses under her left arm and a fully-assembled handgun in her right hand. The shiba reacted to her before the black fox did—much to the disadvantage of the latter. While running past him, Krystal pistol whipped the back of the black vulpine's head, causing him to drop his knife once again. The vixen took off running down the hallway towards the elevators, but the shiba turned away from Fox and darted after her.

"Oh no you don't!" Fox called out. Using his superior height and longer strides to his advantage, Fox sprinted after the shiba and launched into a flying tackle that knocked the short canine to the ground. Fox wasted no time in getting back on his feet. In the process, he trampled over the shiba, eliciting a shark squeak from him.

Focusing on Krystal, Fox caught up with her just as she turned into the hallway containing the elevators. She never even looked at them, her eyes focused on a metal door at the end of the elevator area. "We need to take the stairs!" she yelped.

"Are you sure about that?" Fox shouted back.

"Now is not a good time for questions, Fox!" Get the door for me!"

Heart pounding at a dizzying rate, Fox yanked open the stair access door and held it for Krystal as she ran through it and clopped down the stairs, clutching her clothes and her large plastic jar that seemed to contain nothing but sunflower seeds. Chasing Krystal down the stairs, Fox demanded, "Give me your gun so I can shoot them when they show up again!"

"I didn't have time to grab the ammo!" Krystal yelped. "You're going to have to take care of them the old-fashioned way!"

Fox went silent. _"You've got to be kidding me."_

The floors raced past one after the other.

12…11…10…9…8…7…

" _The elevator would have been faster,"_ Fox realized. A second later, another realization dawned on him.

"Krystal!" he yelled.

"What is it this time?!"

"We need to go back up! They're going to be waiting for us at the bottom! We can go back to your room and load your gun, then we'll kill them when they come for us again!"

Krystal shook her head while turning the corner of the stairs and descending to floor 6. "No—the short one is chasing us down the stairs."

"Shit," Fox muttered under his breath. _"They're trying to choke us off."_

Dreading what could be waiting for him and Krystal in the lobby yet determined to somehow beat the elevator to the ground floor, Fox raced down the stairs while riding the ragged edge of his own balance. Struggling to hold onto her belongings, Krystal's stayed alongside Fox with her panicked breathing coming out in haggard, short bursts.

At long last, the two reached the bottom floor. Fox yanked open the door at the base of the stairs to allow Krystal to run through it. Then, he darted out and ran in front of her to protect her in the event that the black fox had been lying in wait. To his shock, the lobby at the bottom of the stairs seemed completely vacant.

" _Did we actually…?"_

One of the elevators on the right wall dinged.

"Eep!" Krystal squealed, suddenly breaking into a dizzying sprint and aiming for the glass exit doors on the other side of the lobby. Not a moment later, the elevator doors parted to reveal the black vulpine.

"Ah, we meet again." He cracked his knuckles, then lunged forward, intent on tackling Krystal. Fox saw what he planned to do and charged towards him, kicking out his left leg and tripping his adversary. The black fox faceplanted onto the tile floor, missing Krystal's ankles by a mere foot.

With the black fox down, Fox leaped onto his back and circled his arms around his throat. The dark-furred vulpine thrashed about in an attempt at throwing Fox off of him, but nothing he did could dislodge Fox and prevent him from choking him out.

Except his orange partner.

Fox's ears swiveled in the direction of the stairwell door just as it flew open. The shiba ran through the opening towards him, fists clenched and determination in his eyes.

" _Crap."_

The shiba lashed out with a flying low side kick that caught Fox square in the ribs and knocked him off the black fox's back. Suddenly freed, the dark vulpine coughed and jumped to his feet. Doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his side, Fox pushed himself up and glanced over his shoulder at the glass entry door. As far as he could tell, Krystal had loaded her belongings into the rental car and started the engine, and…

" _What? No! Don't leave me!"_

To his horror, Krystal floored the gas pedal and peeled out of her parking space, leaving him to deal with her would-be assassins.

One detail pulled Fox's attention away from his disloyal ladyfriend, however—specifically, a black-furred fist in his face. He growled in pain and took a quick step back, assuming a fighting stance against the two furious canids standing in front of him. Words were not necessary to describe the anger and frustration that emanated off of them.

" _I can't fight them off forever, and there's no way I can run fast enough to get away from them,"_ thought Fox. _"I've got to do_ something!"

He looked around the room for something—anything that could conceivably give him the upper hand against his assailants. All that met his eyes was a small, chest-height circular table with a black tablecloth and a tiny glass vase on top. As he considered his options, both the black fox and the shiba charged towards him—the black fox with his knife held in his right hand, and the shiba with his fists clenched and ready to unload on him.

Fox darted to his right, towards the small, round table. He grabbed the edge of the tablecloth. Pulling it towards him, he yanked it off the table and tossed it towards the black fox. The dark vulpine's extended knife blade caught on the fabric as it expanded in the air, and the tablecloth draped itself over his head.

However, the shiba continued charging Fox. Panicking, Fox reached out for the nearest object: the vase that had been sitting atop the table. Thanks to his rapid removal of the tablecloth, some of the water contained within had spilled out—but not all of it. He grabbed the piece of shaped glass and hurled it in the direction of the shiba. The vase exploded in the dog's face, sending glass flying in all directions. With his enemy disoriented and bleeding from the nose, Fox took the opportunity to kick the table over. The canine ran into the piece of toppling furniture, causing him to fall face down onto it.

Ice in his veins, Fox devised a plan to buy himself just enough time to make a clean break. Without weapons, he knew he had next to no hope of neutralizing both of his assailants. Escaping or attracting the attention of Eladard's police force stood out as the only ways to end the fight. Yet, he had a suspicion that the latter of the two options would somehow land him in prison, given the string of extreme misfortune he seemed to have stumbled upon of late.

While the Shiba crushed the ruined table in an attempt at standing up, Fox darted into the back right corner of the atrium, close to the stairwell door. In the corner stood a large, gray trash can of the variety used by custodians the world over. Fox grabbed it with both hands, surprised by the weight of the trash inside it. He sprinted towards his two flailing attackers, noting that the black fox had still not managed to escape from the perfectly placed tablecloth. The shiba—while bloodied and hurt—still looked more than ready to continue the fight. The short canine jumped over the ruins of the small table towards Fox.

Yelling, Fox swung the heavy garbage can at him and struck the shiba in the side. The short canine made an 'oof' noise and wobbled to Fox's left.

" _Time to finish this."_

Using his enemy's momentary lapse in focus to his advantage, Fox lifted the trash can above his head and dumped its contents onto the shiba. Half-finished drink cups, fast food wrappers, soiled paper towels, discarded work gloves, and beer bottles poured from the garbage bin and pelted their unfortunate target.

But Fox was not finished.

To complete his victory, he slammed the garbage can down on the shiba's head. The dog yelped and wandered from side to side, only to topple over and crash into the splintered remains of the table. Fox took to opportunity to sprint out the front door and back into downtown Eladard. He looked over his shoulder as he escaped the apartment complex, only to see the black fox finally free himself from the tablecloth.

If Fox had one advantage, it was this: he could run. His trained physique allowed him to outpace most people, and his endurance gave him a greater chance of escaping his pursuers than a common person would have. Speeding out of the apartment, he made a sharp right and ran along the sidewalk that bordered the chaotic street, still bustling even in the dead of night. The sidewalks, however, saw little traffic. This allowed him to focus on running and planning his next steps. To his right, he spotted a disheveled alleyway between Krystal's apartment complex and a coffee shop built into the high-rise next to it. Stopping for a second, he glanced down the corridor to make sure it was not a dead end.

He saw a tiny amount of light at the other end—a pathway to another street. While running past graffiti-covered walls, dumpsters, and bags of trash, he looked over his shoulder in time to see both the black fox and the shiba enter the alley.

" _These guys aren't going to let up. What am I supposed to do now?"_

He turned his eyes to the path ahead of him and realized that he had neared the end of the alleyway. He contemplated which way to turn and wondered if trying to run across the moving traffic on the adjacent road would be the most effective way to throw off his pursuers, as risky as that was. Cars zipped across his line of sight as the alleyway ended and turned into another sidewalk. As he stepped into the open air, he glanced at two open parallel parking spaces directly in front of him.

He glanced left and prepared to run, but he saw something out of the corner of his eye and hesitated. A dull blue sedan darted into the two open spaces and came to an abrupt stop punctuated by a tire squeak. Fox looked through the car's passenger side window and saw Krystal inside. Not wanting to know if his pursuers were about to stab him, he avoided looking over his shoulder and sprinted towards the car. He wrenched the door open and slid into the passenger's seat. Krystal accelerated out of the parking space the instant Fox entered the car, not even giving him the time to shut his own door. The vehicle's own momentum took care of that for him.

Breathing heavily, Fox looked in his mirror in time to see the black fox and the shiba emerge from the alleyway and stop at the side of the road. He knew both of them fully intended to continue their pursuit, but Krystal had already managed to accelerate through a yellow light and put enough distance between her and them for them to give chase on foot.

In spite of his adrenaline and the thrill of having escaped his pursuers, Fox came up at a loss for words. For half a minute, he sat in silence while attempting to calm his heavy breathing. At last, he spoke.

"I thought you abandoned me."

Looking hurt—but also uncertain—Krystal looked at him and replied, "Never." She took a deep breath, then murmured, "You saved me. I never would have made it out of there without you. You're…my hero." As if to confirm her admiration, she gazed at Fox with dreamy eyes.

Fox scratched the back of his head. "Um, well, I was just doing my job. Speaking of that, now that we're out of there…"

"…It's time for me to talk, isn't it?" Krystal's words came out with the least amount of volume that Fox could still hear. At the same time, her serene expression fled from her face.

"We made a deal, so yes," Fox replied while crossing his arms.

Krystal took a moment to collect herself. "All right. I'll make this as quick as possible, because I need you to help me with something before we get to the airport. I'll fill you in on the rest when we get back to Corneria and we can talk without someone overhearing us. I'll put this out there now: Rafa is about to take possession of two new military weapons that would give his army a huge advantage."

Fox looked at Krystal with rapt attention. "What are they? Is this something Miss Ortega helped pay for?"

Krystal twitched in her seat for a moment before she calmed herself. "Yes—Lady Ortega financed them. There are numerous projects that are being looked into by the East Fortunans, but two in particular that stood out to me. Both are part of the Red Group's R&D program—that company is based just a few miles from here, just so you know. One of the weapons is an advanced battle tank with anti-air capabilities. It also has the ability to hover and can travel over twenty kilometers per hour faster than the current fastest production tank. They gave it some kind of number-letter name that I can't recall, but everyone involved with it called it the 'Landmaster.'

"Landmaster, huh?" Fox muttered. "What's the other project?"

"The other one," Krystal explained, "Is a seventh generation air superiority fighter. I had the chance to see it in person, and it is beautiful."

"Wait…hold on," Fox interrupted. "The Cornerian Army just revealed their new sixth generation fighter. How can they be on seven already?"

"A lot of money and a lot of willpower," Krystal answered. "It's called the F/S-11. The brass who designed it called it an 'Arwing.' I don't know everything that went into it, but it's supposed to be able to outmaneuver virtually any airborne threat and counter it with a suite of experimental weaponry. The design staff claims that a squad of these fighters would be virtually invincible against current fighters and anti-air weapons. Both the Landmaster and Arwing were built exclusively for the East Fortunan military. They have a deal with the Red Group not to release the designs to anyone else."

Fox sat in silence, staring at the road ahead. Then, he glanced back towards Krystal. "Clearly, we need to do something about this. But before I make any plans, I need to know something else."

Krystal cringed, fearing that she would not like Fox's next question.

"How do you know all this? What exactly was your position in the East Fortunan chain of command?"

The vixen bit her lip and haltingly replied, "I was the liaison between Christina and Rafa. Christina—I call her Lady Ortega—wanted me to keep an eye on Rafa. She never trusted him—or anyone, for that matter. My job was to funnel information to Lady Ortega to keep her in the know."

"I see," said Fox. "Thank you for being willing to talk, Krystal. We'll discuss this more when we get back to Corneria, okay?"

Krystal exhaled. "Certainly." A moment later, she looked over her shoulder into the back seat. She softened the tone of her voice and asked, "Hey, Fox—can you help me with something now?"

Fox sighed. "What is it?"

"I need you to take my gun apart for me. I didn't have time to do it. We'll be at the airport in fifteen minutes, and security isn't going to be happy if my gun is still in one piece by then."

"Okay, sure," Fox replied. "I can take care of that for you. What kind of gun is it?"

Krystal paused to take a deep breath. "About that—there's something else I need you to do." She reached into the back seat while talking.

"What's that?"

"Try to keep your composure." With that, she grasped her handgun and placed it on the center console between her and Fox.

"Holy shi…"

Krystal slapped his hand and gave him a harsh glance. "You heard what I said. Just shut up and take it apart."

Externally, Fox obeyed, but the magnificence of the firearm in front of him was not something he was prepared for.

" _No way! This is a Ramirez revolver, made over 100 years ago! It was one of the first cartridge handguns ever made! This thing is unreal! The entire frame is overlaid with platinum, the revolver cylinder is overlaid with etched gold leaf, the grip is made of ivory, and to top it off, the entire barrel is engraved with floral designs. It even looks like there's some kind of message written near the tip of the barrel."⁴_

" _P_r mi am_ Xt_a"_

" _Looks like some of the etching is worn off. Dare I say it looks intentional? I wonder what it's supposed to say. But the better question is, 'How did Krystal end up with this thing?' This belongs in a museum, not with a young East Fortunan spy."_

At that point in time, he could have cared less about Krystal's inevitable angry response. He needed to know the answer to the C15,000,000⁵ question—specifically that amount, because that was the estimated value of the weapon.

"Okay Krystal, I need to know where you got this thing. Don't tell me you don't know what it is."

Beneath her fur, Krystal's skin turned pale. "It's a pretty gun?"

"Krystal, this is a custom-built 19th century Manuela Ramirez revolver.⁶ There are fewer than fifty of these guns in the whole world. All of them are in safes, museums, or collections—except this one."

"Maybe it's a fake?" Krystal offered, her voice quivering.

"It would be one hell of a fake to have actual gold leaf, platinum plating, and an ivory grip. Look—you don't _have_ to tell me where you got this, but I'm really not going to be able to trust you unless you do. This gun is worth millions, and I'm pretty sure you don't have that kind of money."

Krystal lowered her head. "You're right. I stole it."

Fox's eyes widened. "From who?"

"Lady Ortega," Krystal admitted. "It was hers."

"Uh, don't you think she would find out about someone stealing a gun like this from her?"

Krystal shook her head. "Lady Ortega has more money and treasure than she knows what to do with. I hate to admit it, but since I already told you that I stole the gun, I took a few million credits from her as well."

Fox buried his face in his hand. "Wow. Remind me to never let you close to my finances. Did you really think you were going to get away with that?"

"Yes, and I did," Krystal declared. "I would suggest that you not lecture me about it, because that was how I was planning to pay you for protecting me. So, now you can see why I'm so concerned about my bank account. Now, please shut your mouth and take apart my gun. And no—airport security isn't going to interrogate me about it. Lady Ortega is a recluse who doesn't want her name on anything. In fact, she'd prefer that people believe she's dead. In other words, the gun is registered to me now, and no one has reported it stolen. Get to work."

Fox submitted, and his ears drooped. "Yes, ma'am."

While Krystal exhaled and turned her attention back to the road ahead, Fox set to work taking apart the ornate weapon with the utmost care. He suspected Krystal did not value the revolver nearly as much as he did, but he still made it a priority to disassemble every piece in the most precise and delicate manner possible. Despite his methodical approach, he finished the task in under five minutes.

Noticing that he had finished, Krystal glanced at him and said, "The case for it is in the back seat. Put all the parts into it, and we shouldn't have any problems at the airport."

Fox nodded. Being careful not to accidentally knock any of the gun's components off the cloth center console and into the two yawning abysses between it and the two front seats, he pulled the small, airport security-rated case out of the back seat and placed every part of Krystal's gun into the foam-filled interior. After latching the case, he returned it to the back seat.

He glanced out the right window just as Krystal spoke to him. "I'm sorry for being so uptight. I didn't mean to come across as harsh."

Fox looked back at her and took note of her expression of genuine concern. "It's okay, Krystal. You just barely escaped being killed off. Also, about that—I'm sorry I doubted you. You were right about Rafa's hitman."

"See?" Krystal exclaimed. "I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if he had shown up in his full armor."

Fox bit his lip. "Uh oh."

"That's correct, Fox. We both are lucky to be alive. Let's make that count." She paused and looked down for a split second before refocusing on the city streets and traffic in front of her. "Fox, there's something else I need to tell you."

The red vulpine slackened his posture as a way of diffusing the stress that his body language seemed to be imbuing Krystal with. "What's that?"

"It's about the secrets. I want you to understand something. There are some things about me that I don't want to _think_ about, much less speak about. Some of these details—I don't feel like I can trust anyone with them. To tell you the truth, you're the closest thing to a friend I have right now. Everyone I know turned their backs on me. So, I'm asking something of you. It's a lot to ask, but I don't know who else to turn to. Can you keep me in your confidence?"

Fox looked at her with a withering, wary stare. "I don't know if I can. After being stabbed in the back by one of my closest friends, I'm not feeling very trusting. It's hard for me to trust you when I know you're keeping things from me."

"This is different," Krystal replied, her voice almost a whisper. "No one needs to know about these things. If you can keep quiet about them, no one will get hurt."

"I don't understand what you mean by that."

"You're not supposed to. Let's keep it that way," said Krystal. She held up a finger to her lips. "Shh."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll keep your secrets for you, assuming I ever find out what those secrets are. Listen here, though: if you betray my trust, all bets are off. Understand?"

Krystal's hands trembled. "Yes. I understand."

With Krystal's illicitly-acquired weapon disassembled and their would-be assassins far behind him, Fox's mind reverted to its previous state—specifically, the state of concern and anger regarding his father's fate. Krystal's association with the people responsible for the chemical weapons attack infuriated him further, even though he felt that her antipathy towards the strike was genuine.

" _Why now, of all times?"_ Fox wondered to himself. _"It's like my whole life decided to fall apart all at once. Is this some kind of cruel joke?"_

A frown on his face, he glanced at Krystal. The vixen looked back at him and returned a sad expression. She knew what was on his mind.

Deciding that talking to a questionably trustworthy former enemy was a better choice than talking to no one at all, Fox turned towards her and muttered, "I don't want to get too personal, but do you believe in a god?"

Krystal raised a surprised eyebrow. "That was unexpected. But yes, I do. Why do you ask? Were you hoping for me to give you some kind of reassurance that everything will work out in the end?"

Fox clenched his fists. "No. If there's a god, I want to know why he decided to destroy my life. My friends are dead, my closest teammate betrayed me and started a war, I'm about to go bankrupt and have to start a new career that I know I'm going to hate, and to top it off, now I'm completely orphaned. Some people would see that as evidence that God doesn't exist, but the odds of all those things happening to me at once are making me absolutely convinced that he does—and that he's a sadist who's wrecking my life for kicks and giggles.⁷ 'Oh, but you'll just have to wait. There's always a higher purpose,' they'd say. What a pile of crap."

Krystal stayed focused on driving, but she lowered her head. "I've been through something similar before. I had everything taken from me and had to start over. As you can see, I'm still here."

"But have you gotten over it yet?" Fox demanded.

Krystal sighed and shook her head. "No."

"See? That's what I thought. "I'm not going to stand for this anymore."

"But what are you going to do about it?"

Fox threw up his hands. "How the hell would I know?"

"I have a suggestion," Krystal offered. "Maybe you need to vent. Put what's on your mind out there. I'm sure God can handle it."

"Well, if he can't, I guess I can expect a lightning bolt to come out of nowhere and zap me. I think at this point, I'd be okay with that."

"I don't think that's going to happen, Fox," said Krystal.

"Either way, I don't care," Fox replied. "Well, I might as well put this out there." Trying to put the awkwardness of yelling at an unseen spiritual being while in the presence of an attractive exotic vixen out of his mind, he looked through the top of the rental car's windshield towards the sky. Allegedly, the presence of God permeated the entire realm of space and time, but the sky seemed more fitting, as it implied distance and a lack of empathy for the world below.

"Why are you doing this to me? Do you enjoy hurting me?" Fox called out. "Is this like the story of that guy whose life you ruined because the devil suggested it?⁸ Because if it is, you're not getting the same response from me! No sir—I am _not_ going to take this abuse! I demand to know why this is all happening to me at the same time. Is this for some 'greater purpose?' Is it because you 'love' me so much that you want to make me suffer for some undefined, counterproductive reason? Or do you actually take pleasure in hurting people and kicking them while they're down, like some psychopath playing 'Civilization Number-Whatever-They're-Up-To-Now'⁹ on a cosmic scale? Answer me, or…I won't believe in you anymore, or something like that!"

Krystal looked out her left side window and covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing. Eventually, she managed to harden her expression and turn back towards Fox. "Do you feel any better now?"

"Not really," Fox grumbled. "I mean, I wasn't really expecting an answer, so…"

Fox's phone rang. The instant he felt the vibration in his pocket, his curved spine turned rigid. His ears erected themselves. His eyes opened wide. His tail exploded into a frightened poof. In a flurry of movement, he yanked the device out of his pocket and stared at the screen, which indicated an incoming call. The caller ID all but stopped his heart.

"UNKNOWN."

Krystal saw the edge of the phone screen and froze. In the process, she failed to stop and barreled through a red light. Thanks to divine intervention—or something like that—she avoided a crossing city bus's front bumper by a matter of feet.

Fox noticed none of it. His eyes glued themselves to the phone screen. His hands trembled, and he broke into a cold sweat. The fear of God came over him. He knew he had no choice but to swipe the 'answer' bar across the screen. So, he did.

Raising the phone to ear level, he choked out, "God?"¹⁰

 _"Kon'nichiwa, Senpai!"_

Fox gasped. He could have recognized that voice anywhere. "Rena? Is that you?"

A sarcastic female voice pierced his ears. _"Of course, you farking¹¹ idiot. Who else do you think it could be?"_

"I thought you were dead," Fox explained, his anger quickly turning to elation. "How did you get out of the embassy at Northpoint when it blew up?"

Rena paused, then replied, _"Meh – I don't feel like telling any stories right now. Let me give this phone to someone else who wants to talk to you."_

A series of clunks echoed from the phone's speakers before a familiar voice spoke. _"Fox – I'm okay. Rena and I managed to escape from the East Fortunan military camp where we were being held."_

Fox felt like he would cry tears of joy at any given moment. "Dad – I can't believe this! You're both all right?"

 _"Well, mostly,"_ said James. _"I took a few hits on the way out, but I'll live."_ After a short pause, he asked, _"Say, I've been meaning to ask you—how are things with you and Scarlet?"_

Fox rolled his eyes. "Go figure—you just escaped certain death, and the first thing you ask me is if I've shacked up with my ex-cousin yet. Classic. And to answer your question, we're not on speaking terms right now."

" _Huh? What did you do?"_

"Don't blame me—blame her. Speaking of Scarlet, how are you so close to her? She's not even a blood relative. I don't remember you spending any time with her when she was younger."

James chuckled nervously. _"That's something you're going to have to ask her. It's our little secret."_

"I don't like the sound of this," Fox replied, covering his eyes with his hand.

His father cleared his throat. _"More to the point, though: right now, Rena and I are in the Coppersmith Airport near the border of East and West Fortuna. It's in that area just north of the rainforest. Since we were both captured by the East Fortunans, we don't have any cash or cards on us. We're stuck here until someone bails us out. As Corneria's ally, the West Fortunan Army has offered to help us; but in all honesty, they've got more important things to deal with. I told them to hold off until I found out from you if you'd be willing to airlift us out of here. Since I'm pretty sure you're going to reinstate Rena, it might be worth your time. If you don't, it might be a little while before we can make it back into Corneria."_

Fox paused for thought and groaned. At the same time, Krystal nudged him and leaned in his direction to whisper in his ear. "Do it. I'll pay for it. Think of it as my way of apologizing for him getting into this mess."

Taken aback, Fox stared into Krystal's eyes, then replied to his father. "Okay, I'll head up there as soon as I can."

 _"Thank you, Fox. See you soon, son!"_

"Bye, Dad."

Hanging up, Fox slid his phone back into his pocket and breathed a massive sigh of relief.

"I think you need to apologize to someone," Krystal commented, subtly pointing upwards.

"Damn it, you're right," Fox muttered. He held his tongue for five seconds, then crossed his arms. "Why did you volunteer to pay for me to fly to Fortuna and pick up my dad?"

"Because I want to prove that I'm sorry for what happened to him. You shouldn't have to bear the weight of my mistakes."

Fox turned his head towards Krystal and looked into her eyes. In those aquamarine lenses, he saw contrition, remorse and a third emotion that eluded him until he gave himself a moment to mull over it.

Affection.

An uncertain feeling came over him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the blue vixen sitting next to him harbored feelings for him that went beyond the desire for a simple friend or a confidante. And to top it off, he realized that those feelings may have been present from the beginning.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:  
_

1 _Oasis_ Krystal was characterized by being overly sheltered, immature (even for the age of 19), extremely unsure of herself, and prone to being brainwashed by omnicidal maniacs. However, Fox's comment here relates to an early scene in _The Oasis_ where Krystal's best friend Jasmine is killed in a crash-landing. After meeting Fox and falling for him entirely too early, Krystal all but forgets about her.

2 Eladard is best described as an amalgamation of Tokyo, Hong Kong, Panama, and Singapore. It has an equatorial climate with high heat and humidity.

3 A reference to SyxxFox's early work. To avoid rating his stories 'M,' he censored every instance of profanity. This got a bit old after a while.

4 Special thanks to Demo ODST for helping me come up with a description for this gun.

5 C = Cornerian Credit; has a value similar to USD, CAD, AUD, EUR, GBP, etc.

6 Headcanon info: Manuela Ramirez was a woman who lived in the East Fortunan province of the Macbeth Empire between 170 and 80 years before the start of _Sierra Foxtrot_. Manuela was famed for her innovative (at the time) firearm designs and was known for her engraving work, which she only performed for her wealthiest customers. Her guns were only available on a custom order basis.

7 If you consider the author to be a god in the context of a story, then this is not too far off the mark.

8 Vague reference to the biblical book of Job.

9 I legitimately have no idea how many Sid Meier's Civilization games there are at this point.

10 Okay, I'll admit this moment in the story was heavily inspired by a scene from the film _Zoolander_ , starring Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson.

11 The first of many farks. In the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ , there were exactly 100.


	17. Enter The Yandere

**Arc IV: The Frozen North**

 _Part 1: Enter the Yandere_

 _Chapter 16_

As the Great Fox touched down on the tarmac in the Coppersmith International Airport in the southern part of West Fortuna, Fox breathed a tense sigh. The massive transport plane rolled to a stop near the airport terminal, and after a moment, one of the facility's small airplane movers drove in front of the plane's front wheels and guided it into position. When all motion had ceased, a loading tunnel extended to the side of the Great Fox.

Turning off the engines, Fox unfastened his safety belt and looked at Krystal in the co-pilot's seat. As opposed to Miyu's borrowed athletic clothes, she wore a light blue sundress and a trio of silver steel tail rings. When Fox stood up, she followed his lead and moved to open the side door behind the cockpit. At the same time, both Katt and Slippy stood up and exited the Great Fox's crew area to follow Fox and Krystal. Due to the team having no active job leads and there being no additional fees to bring the two along, both Katt and Slippy agreed to travel with Fox and Krystal. At the very least, they figured that being with their employer to meet one of their future teammates would be worthwhile.

Even though Fox disliked the inconvenience of having to fly into Fortuna, the anticipation of seeing Rena and his father again thrilled him. Walking through the narrow boarding tunnel into the airport terminal itself, he looked to his right and stared out the enormous plate glass window that covered most of the nearest wall. A large swath of the airport stretched out in front of him, with various airplanes coming and going. Beyond the numerous runways, the hulking trees of Fortuna's enormous rain forest towered over the airport and the nearby city of Coppersmith.

Slippy's annoying voice snapped Fox out of his reverie. "So, what's this 'Rena' person like?"

Fox bit his lip. "I'll just say this: if you want everything to be okay with her, don't question her personal decisions, and don't talk about her sexuality. Ever."

Katt gave Fox a quizzical expression. "Aw, come on—she should learn to accept herself and be proud of it. I mean, I'm bi, and I don't have any problem with people knowing that."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Trust me—it isn't what you think it is."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

Fox let out an exasperated sigh and turned towards his teammates. "Rena is asexual, and she's really, _really_ serious about it."

"The heck? That's just weird." Katt muttered.

"I don't see what's so weird about that," Slippy replied.

Katt smirked. "Well, in all fairness, Slippy, that shouldn't surprise anyone here."

"Hey!"

"Can we please move on?" Krystal pleaded. "This is accomplishing nothing. Let's just meet up with Rena and Fox's father and get back on the plane. The humidity in this place is already making my fur mental.¹"

"Krystal's right," Fox replied. "Let's save the discussion for later, okay?"

After clearing his team's passports with Customs, the four wandered through the airport terminal, looking for James and Rena. The majority of western Fortuna's population consisted of primates in the south and felines to the north, but a vast number of other species accounted for the rest of the populace. This meant that locating his father amongst the rest of the people in the airport would be easier than it would have been in Corneria, where canines and vulpines dominated the population. Still, Fox kept his eyes open for Rena in particular, since she looked nothing like any other person he had ever met in his lifetime.

Near the middle of the vast terminal, he saw a flash of yellow fur and shot his gaze towards a set of hard plastic seats near the terminal wall. Only two people sat in the area. The first was unmistakably James, but the second caused Slippy and Krystal—but not Katt²—to raise an eyebrow. Seated with a set of white headphones over her long, pointed ears, a slender vixen listened to her music, oblivious to Fox and his friends. Her fur radiated a searing shade of yellow, and her frame came across as lacking both height and width. For the moment, she wore a dingy brown jumpsuit, no doubt a holdover from her and James's imprisonment in an East Fortunan POW camp.³

Oblivious to her surroundings, she nodded her head in time with her music, causing her dyed white hair (with one black highlighted strand) to whisk about. That is, until Fox stepped up to her and pushed her headphones off her ears.

With her trance broken, the vixen yelled, "Hey! Fark off!" before she realized who had distracted her. She shut off her music player. Then she leaped to her feet and gave Fox a playful punch in the chest before stepping back to take a better look at him. For several seconds, she stared him down. Then, she did something that startled the others—she lunged towards him and threw her arms around him. The yellow vixen buried her muzzle in Fox's neck fur and cooed, "I'm so farking happy to see you again, Senpai!"

Fox returned her gesture and stroked Rena's back. Behind him, Katt, Krystal, and Slippy all adopted confused expressions.

After nearly strangling her senpai, Rena pulled away. In the process, she noticed Katt, Krystal, and Slippy staring at her.

"Who are these stragglers?" she asked Fox.

Cringing, Fox scratched the back of his neck and answered her with a tinge of frustration in his voice. "They're my new teammates. You know – to replace the ones who died at Northpoint."

"Sheesh, you didn't have to be so cold about it," Rena muttered, turning her attention back to the three behind him. "Hello, Fox's teammates."

"Hello, creepy yellow fox," Katt replied.

Rena's ice blue eyes narrowed. The instant Fox detected her emotions, he held out his hands and snapped, "Katt, no! Do you want to die here, in this airport?"

Katt gulped, then stared at the creepy yellow fox, who pulled a ninja star seemingly out of nowhere and placed it in her hand. "Oh, uh, sorry about that. _"_

"Apology accepted," Rena growled.

" _Crazy bitch,"_ thought Katt.

With the temporary tension resolved, Fox walked towards his father, who stood up and stepped towards him with a slight limp in his left leg. He cringed upon seeing the state of the elder fox. His frame seemed more haggard than it had before, and an eye patch covered his right eye. Like Rena, he wore a brown East Fortunan prison jumpsuit.

Horror in his eyes, Fox gasped, "Dad – what happened to you?"

James lowered his head. "I took a few hits on the way out. Don't worry, son – I'll live."

As his eyes lingered on his father's injuries, Fox felt his hatred for the East Fortunans rising in his chest to the point where it felt like a literal fire that threatened to consume him. "I'm going to make those bastards pay for what they did to you and the rest of the team," he muttered, keeping his voice low enough for Miyu and Slippy not to hear him. He knew that Krystal would pick up on his thoughts in spite of her agreement not to pry into his mind, but at that moment, he could not have cared less about her opinion.

He expected his father to agree with him, but to his surprise, the wounded fox placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Fox, don't let your feelings of revenge drive your actions. I've seen too many people fall from grace because of their own anger; and often, they left a trail of destruction behind them when they did. Don't be one of them. Think, don't feel."

"Easier said than done."

"True, but it is still possible," James replied. "A true leader never lets his emotions get to him. He never flinches, even if everything he stands for is falling apart around him."

"Based on that, there aren't very many 'true leaders,'" Fox commented.

"You're right. I want you to be one of them."

Under his breath, Fox muttered, "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let you join my unit."

James heard him. "Sorry if that came off as sounding like an order. I'm just trying to help you out. I'd hate for it to take you as long to learn these things as it did for me."

"Yeah, I understand. I guess now that you and Rena are all right, we'll head back to Corneria. I don't have anything on my plate right now as far as missions go."

James nodded. "Sounds fair enough to me, although I wouldn't expect it to stay like that for long. Mercenary contracts in East Fortuna are on the rise; and from what I've heard, the Cornerian government has authorized the employment of numerous mercenary teams to supplement the troops protecting Northpoint during the infrastructure repairs."

"Does the military expect the East Fortunans to attack that city again?"

"Many things are possible now that Corneria has declared war on East Fortuna," James replied. "For some reason, capturing Northpoint is one of the EFR forces' top priorities. No one would be surprised if they attacked the city again. Emergency crews have gotten the lights to come back on in some of the more densely populated areas, but it'll be months before the city is back to the way it was before the attack."

Fox glanced over his shoulder and noticed Rena putting her headphones back on. Clearly, the weighty discussion about the war and Northpoint did nothing to interest her. At the same time, Fox looked at Krystal, Miyu, and Slippy, all of whom looked ready to leave the terminal and move on to something more interesting.

He waved in Rena's direction to get her attention, then began leading the group back towards the Great Fox's boarding ramp. However, before they could reach the security checkpoint, Rena tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "Can you help me out here? I need some new clothes. This jumpsuit is itchy as fark."

Fox sighed. "Fine. I'm sure there's a gift shop around here somewhere. Just make it quick, okay?"

* * *

\- § -

* * *

While Fox and his team left West Fortuna and began the flight back to Corneria, the Onyx duo had other business to attend to. Far north of the Coppersmith Airport, Hartmann and Lucas barreled across the vast ice flats of Fichina in an olive drab 4x4. A driving blizzard coated the vehicle and the terrain with heavy snow, although the snow decreased in intensity the farther north the two traveled.

Both Hartmann and Lucas wore heavy black winter gear, but the latter of the two shivered subtly. Hartmann refrained from making a sarcastic comment at his friend's expense. After all, the jackal hailed from hot, arid, Papetoon, while he was built for colder weather.

With nothing in the way of radio signals in the northern part of Fichina, the only audible noises belonged to the 4x4's tires, its engine, its raging heater, and the soft roar of the wind and snow outside. Neither of the two canids in the car said much to each other. The details of the duo's scouting expedition consumed Hartmann, while Lucas simply preferred to keep his mouth shut whenever talking was not required.

After a half hour, though, Hartmann finally spoke. "Are you sure we're even going to find anything up here? This place is desolate. I don't even see how anyone could live here."

Lucas turned his hooded head towards his boss. "The rocket launch originated ten miles from where we are now. Don't take my word for it—it was in the mission briefing."

"Sure," said Hartmann, "But I have some real doubts. If the DIS thought this was really worth looking into, they would have done it themselves instead of hiring us."

"Sending Cornerian spies into a barely populated yet contested area might not have been the greatest idea," Lucas countered. He pointed out the front window. "Look—steam is rising from the ground. There's a geothermal heat source nearby."

"Which means?"

Lucas let out a huff. "Don't be so dense. Someone could run a large complex with a power source like that. Keep your eyes open. We're close."

Taking his teammate at his word, Hartmann guided the SUV between the sporadic columns of steam, slowing down to give himself the time to stop if he encountered a geyser or a pothole large enough to cause significant damage to the car. The driving snow made visibility a chore and only allowed him to see two hundred meters ahead of his current position.

However, the lack of visibility did not prevent him from spotting the unavoidable landmark that lay ahead. Out of the blizzard, a towering fortress appeared. The thick, concrete walls surrounding the rectangular building looked to be over thirty feet tall. Guard towers dotted the rooftop area and the structure's corners, and the edge of a rooftop helicopter pad poked out from the top of the building. But above all else, the element that attracted Hartmann and Lucas's attention was the immense launch scaffolding protruding from the opened center of the base. It looked large enough to launch a full-size rocket, or perhaps something more sinister.

"You were right," said Hartmann. "The rocket came from here. Do you sense anything nearby?"

Lucas took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them again with concern written on his face. "There's one person outside the building. They're not in good shape. They're close by—inside that helicopter over there."

As the jackal pointed out the right side of the SUV's windshield, Hartmann's eyes locked onto the wreckage of a red and white dual-rotor helicopter. Snow covered it from top to bottom, and it looked as though it had been there for weeks.

"Now _that's_ worrying. Are you sure there's no one else here?"

Lucas shook his head. "It's only the one survivor. I can't feel anything else that's biologically based. It's possible that the building has automated security measures, though."

Hartmann paused for thought. After a moment, he spoke. "Let's see if this person can tell us anything about this place. Hopefully we're not too late to get them out of here alive. I've got a feeling that we shouldn't park close to that building, though. Just a hunch."

"I agree," said Lucas.

Slowly, Hartmann advanced the SUV, turning away from the seemingly empty fortress and stopping behind a snow-covered bluff fifty yards from the downed helicopter.

Shutting off the engine, Hartmann climbed out of the car and walked towards the wreckage. Lucas fell in behind him, his pointed ears swiveling around in hopes of picking up on any undue noises in the area. The way the red and white helicopter crash-landed had the effect of splitting it into two halves, with the front end angled upwards on a large rock.

As the two neared the wreck, Lucas stepped in front of Hartmann and felt his way towards the survivor inside. At times like this, Hartmann felt grateful to have a teammate with empathetic abilities. More times than he could remember, they had alerted him to the presence of danger that he otherwise would have missed.

Upon reaching the outside of the crashed helicopter, the two stepped through the split in the center of the fuselage and entered the hollow metal tube. The instant they exited the blizzard outside, a quick gasp emanated from the back of the helicopter. Hartmann's eyes darted towards the source of the sound—a female husky with copper and white fur and a veritable cascade of light brown hair. Due to her biology and the heavy winter gear she wore, she looked passably warm. However, something else about her concerned Hartmann—specifically, the pistol in her hand.

" _I can't tell if she's thinking about using it on us, or herself."_

In hopes of preventing both eventualities, he ordered her, "Put the gun down. We're not going to hurt you."

The husky yelped and dropped the weapon. It clattered against the angled metal floor and slid towards Lucas, who reached down, snatched it, and tossed it to Hartmann in a single fluid motion. Hartmann nodded and clipped the pistol onto his belt. Then, he took four steps towards the nervous woman and crouched on one knee in front of her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying not to die," she whispered, as if making even a modest amount of noise would end with her demise. "I've been trapped here for a week. No one responded to my distress signal until now."

Hartmann glanced at Lucas, then looked back at the husky woman. "Your distress signal must not be working. Someone would have seen that by now if it was. You're really lucky that we just happened to show up here."

"Who are you?" asked the woman. "Why are you here?"

Hartmann sighed. "Call me Hartmann. He's Lucas. What we're up to isn't for you to know."

A tiny spark appeared in the husky's eyes. "Ooh, a Black Ops team—I've always wanted to meet guys like you."

His own palm to his face served as Hartmann's response. "All right, now that you've figured us out, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself and why you're the only one up here?"

The woman let out a tense breath. "My name's Sheila.⁴ I'm with the volunteer security department back in Bolovisk. Maybe you've heard of it?"

Hartmann nodded. "Yeah—it was our last stop before we got up here."

"…And they didn't even tell you to be on the lookout for me and my team?"

"Uh, nope."

Sheila lightly punched the floor and growled, "Well, screw them. That's the last time I go out of the way to risk my life for the 'greater good.'"

A brief silence ensued. Hartmann snapped it seconds later. "You said something about 'your team?'"

"Yeah, but they're all dead now. I'm the last one. I guess I got lucky. I hit my head when the helicopter crashed and I blacked out for a little while. When I came to, everyone else was gone. I tried checking out the base, but it's scary and cold out there and I didn't want to die."

Hartmann tilted his head. "Well, how much of it did you check out?"

"I more or less just stepped outside the helicopter and was like, 'Aw hell no, this is too cold. I'm going back inside.'"

"Logical choice," Lucas muttered under his breath.

"Hey, shut up. I'm still alive here."

"Barely," said Lucas. "I sense that you have a tremendous need for food, and I also sense that your dopamine levels are sky high."

"The hell does that mean?"

Lucas never deviated from his typical deadpan delivery. "It means you have a massive lady-boner for my boss."

Sheila's face flushed bright red. "Oh no, I do not!" she yelped, ignoring her earlier decision to keep her voice lowered. Visibly twitching, she turned to Hartmann and asked, "Can you put him back in his Poké ball? Please?"

Hartmann rolled his eyes before reaching for his belt and unclipping a round grenade. Turning towards Lucas, he held out the explosive and squeezed a nonexistent button on the side. "Come back, Lucario!"

Nothing happened.

Hartmann clipped the grenade back onto his belt and shrugged. "Damn. It's defective. Looks like you'll have to learn to put up with him."

"Great," Sheila whined. "He's creeping me out. I feel like there are snakes on my brain when he's looking at me. I don't like it."

"Oh, that… Well, just to clear the air on this right up front, he's a telepath and can read minds—sort of."

Lucas stoically nodded his head twice.

Sheila's eyes went wide. "Oh no—please tell me this is a bad dream."

"Sorry. It's not."

"No! I want my happy place! Get me out of here!"

"Calm down, calm down!" Hartmann emphasized, subconsciously grabbing her arm. To his surprise and slight embarrassment, his touch not only silenced her immediately, but also put her at peace. Looking into her blue eyes that matched his own, he softly told her, "We're going to get you out of here. We parked our SUV close by. There are a few rations in the back, and it's a lot warmer in there. You can sit in the car and wait for us to finish our work here."

"How long is that going to take?" she asked.

Hartmann shrugged. "I have no idea. Probably at least a half hour—definitely longer if that building has any security infrastructure that we're not aware of. Since the rest of your team is dead, I'd bet just about anything that we're going to have to deal with automated defenses."

Sheila's ears fell slightly. "I don't want to pry, but why do you need to get into that building? Eh, screw it—I _definitely_ want to know what kind of awesome secret agent stuff you're working on right now."

Lucas rolled his eyes in contempt and looked away while crossing his arms, while Hartmann merely copied his teammate's first mannerism. "We're not secret agents. We're an elite mercenary team."

"But he doesn't even have a gun," Sheila observed, pointing to Lucas.

"He doesn't need one."

Confusion manifested itself on Sheila's face. "But…how?"

Lucas glared at her out of the corner of his eye and answered, "Trust me—you don't want to know."

"He's good at not getting shot," said Hartmann.

Sheila arched her eyebrows. "And how is that supposed to help if he can't shoot things himself?"

"He tells me where bad guys are so _I_ can shoot them. He's a pacifist. He doesn't want to kill anyone."

"So, he _helps_ you kill people. Got it."

From behind Hartmann, Lucas grumbled, "Boss, make her stop. She's exposing my flimsy moral convictions."

Hartmann sighed. "You heard him. Stop asking questions and just go back to the SUV. Wait inside, and we'll drive you back to Bolovisk when we're finished inside that building." He smirked. "Oh, and don't even think about trying to drive away. I've got the keys."

"Aw, poop," Sheila whined. "Well, if it would help you finish faster, I'll help you guys with your job."

"You're a liability," said Lucas.

Hurt by the jackal's comment, Sheila looked to Hartmann and begged, "Pleeeease?"

The larger husky groaned. "Ugh—I can't help but agree with Lucas. But, if you really want to follow us into that building and possibly get shot full of holes, be my guest. Actually, don't—you're way too pretty to die like that…and I just said that out loud," he trailed off, his facial skin turning bright red.

"Hey, I can shoot things. I'm not an amateur here," Sheila protested. "I'm just trying to help. I want to get off this glacier nao."

"Technically, it's a solid landmass, not a glacier," opined Lucas. "The intense geothermal activity surrounding this region would be impossible if we were standing on a block of ice."

"It's a figure of speech, dumbass."

"Get in the car," Lucas snapped.

Sheila's ears fell. "Can I have my gun back first?"

"NO."

"Sheesh—you didn't have to go all caps on me."

Disheartened, she stood up and stumbled towards the split in the center of the helicopter. She stepped outside into the snow, but not before she took one last fond look at Hartmann. He noticed.

With Sheila outside and on her way to the SUV, Hartmann crossed his arms and commented, "She's cute. I like her."

Lucas shrugged. "I wouldn't think about her too much. It's not going to go anywhere."

"Says you."

"Come on, boss. We're going to check out this building, drive back to Bolovisk, and drop her off. That's the last we'll see of her. Don't fault me for being realistic."

Hartmann frowned. "You're not wrong, I guess. Funny, though—you of all people giving out relationship advice."

"Firsthand experience is not necessarily a requirement for understanding something," the jackal replied.

"Whatever. You're entitled to your incorrect opinions," said Hartmann, "Let's find out what the deal is with this building—who built it, if it serves some purpose other than being a launch facility, and if it's been used recently. Are you absolutely sure there aren't any people inside that thing?"

Lucas returned his usual cold stare. "I feel nothing. Automated defenses are overwhelmingly likely, as you said."

"We'll need to proceed with extreme caution then," Hartmann replied, looking at his utility belt and touching a cylindrical blue grenade. "This thing might work if the defenses aren't state-of-the-art, but if they are, it's going to get messy." Reaching behind his back, he pulled a submachine gun off its strap and offered it to his teammate. "Here—take this. You might as well use it, since there's nothing alive in there."

The jackal reluctantly accepted the weapon, leaving Hartmann with only his main assault rifle, his personal .45 semi-automatic handgun, and the slightly weaker pistol dropped by Sheila. The two crawled out of the helicopter's wreckage and rounded the front of the aircraft. The arctic fortress towered over them, its cold, dark walls and towers casting an imposing shadow over the snowy landscape.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Since she comes from a ridiculously hot and humid oceanic climate, Krystal's fur probably would not go "mental" very easily. She made this statement to help change the subject.

2 If you couldn't figure out why, it's because Katt is the only one of the group who's familiar with odd fur color choices.

3 Originally, Rena was wearing her normal clothes. This did not make sense, considering where she had just been.

4 This is Sheppard SD's OC Sheila Spitz, used with permission.


	18. Enter The Demon

**Arc IV: The Frozen North**

 _Part 2: Enter the Demon_

 _Chapter 17_

A short two hundred yard walk through the heavy snow brought the two to the outer perimeter of the fortress. Stopping twenty feet from the concrete exterior wall, Hartmann scoured the outside of the building for anything of interest. No security cameras stood out to him, but he suspected that discreet monitoring devices may have been active nonetheless. The side of the building closest to him featured two main doors—one, a giant blast door that looked wide enough for the mother of all tanks to drive though, and two, a much smaller steel door replete with nothing more than a standard doorknob and deadbolt.

Hartmann pointed to the smaller of the two doors and crept towards it, his boots leaving massive footprints in the thick powder covering the ground. He noted that no other footprints seemed present.

" _That either means it's been a good while since anyone was here, or it just means that the snow is really heavy. I think it's the second one."_

With Lucas behind him, Hartmann inched towards the entry door and stepped to the right of it. His gloved hand touched the doorknob. He figured that it would be locked on both the top and bottom, but when he clasped the doorknob, it rotated freely. He gently tugged the handle, and to his shock, the door creaked and opened slightly. He froze, refusing to either close the door or pry it open further for fear of shattering the tense equilibrium of the situation.

He glanced at Lucas and nodded his head. Then, he leaned against the wall next to the door and drew his pistol. He grabbed the doorknob with his left hand, reaching across his body to do it. With a quick turn of the knob, he hurled the door open and immediately poked his right pistol-wielding hand into the doorway. Rotating the weapon backwards, he fired three shots into the unknown space on the other side of the door.

The idea was not to hit anything in particular. Rather, it was to coerce any unseen defensive measures into revealing themselves.

Immediately after Hartmann fired his weapon, a series of ominous mechanical noises echoed through the building. A series of beeps and 'blorps' echoed along with a stampede of metal on the floor.

Hartmann clenched his teeth. _"War bots. Damn, I really hope these aren't the latest versions, or this won't do anything. It took way too much time and money for me to get my hands on this thing."_

Not one second later, automatic gunfire erupted from inside the building. A streak of bullets raced out of the opened door. The barrage of metallic footsteps drew closer to the entrance, rising in Hartmann and Lucas's ears. By their pace, both could tell that at least five enemies were inside the door.

Hartmann reached for the blue grenade on his belt and unclipped it. He pulled the pin.

" _Here goes nothing."_

Glancing at Lucas—who still managed to keep an entirely straight face—he chucked the grenade through the doorway as forcefully as he could. With the nature of the grenade, he knew he needed to put a healthy amount of distance between himself and its explosion.

The metallic footsteps grew louder.

A split second later, the grenade detonated inside the building with a subdued 'bang'. A long zapping sound came after it, followed in turn by the crashing of metal against the floor.

"Move up!" Hartmann ordered. He and Lucas darted through the doorway, staring down their respective gunsights. Hartmann took the opportunity to activate the small tactical flashlight mounted on this side of his .45 and swept the light beam from side to side. In front of them on the floor, five combat robots lay on the ground, twitching and smoking from the effects of Hartmann's specialized grenade. In terms of appearances, the bots looked like distorted crosses between simians and velociraptors.

"Finish them off."

Lucas nodded and turned Hartmann's SMG onto the robots. He delivered a quick burst to the exposed wires on the back of the machines' heads, methodically eliminating one enemy at a time. While he removed the possibility of the robots righting themselves and becoming a threat again, Hartmann shined his flashlight on the rest of the room.

The room appeared to be a large chamber filled with white computing machines that looked antiquated by the day's standards. The computers sat on desks on each of the room's walls, with a complete lack of papers and documents surrounding them. Apart from the computers themselves, the desks looked bare. Upon closer examination, Hartmann noticed a distinct lack of computer towers underneath the wall-mounted desks.

" _This place has been cleaned out."_

He stopped examining the room when he heard more metallic footsteps approaching him. They seemed to be coming from a hallway on the left side of the room. Turning to Lucas, he motioned towards the hall and slid up to its exposed door frame. Hartmann looked around the corner as the clanging footsteps grew louder.

Looking at his shadowy teammate, he snatched a grenade from his belt and tossed it to Lucas before pulling out his last frag. He held up three fingers. Then, he lowered one of them, then the next. When he had no more fingers to hold up, he held his hand in a fist, pulled the pin, and hurled his grenade down the hallway. Lucas matched his movements and lobbed his identical explosive into the blackened corridor. Two seconds passed. Then, both grenades detonated with a roar. Along with it came two mechanized shrieks. Looking around the corner again, Hartmann noticed a pile of robotic debris coating the hallway. He cracked a grim smile.

"That never gets old."

No additional sounds came from anywhere in the building, and although he kept his guard up, he felt that he and Lucas had cleaned out all the enemies.

"Looks like that EMP grenade was worth all the time and money you put into getting it," said Lucas.

The husky nodded. "You'd better believe it. We're also lucky that those bots weren't hardened. If those had been the latest models, that grenade might not have done anything other than make them wobble a bit."

"Too bad the grenade took out all the computers in here when it went off, though."

Hartmann shook his head. "There's nothing of value in this room. Whoever was in here last took all the actual computers and just left the monitors in place."

Lucas frowned. "Do you think it's going to be the same case with the rest of the building?"

"Probably," Hartmann replied. "We still need to check it out."

Pausing for thought, Lucas scratched his muzzle and pondered aloud, "How did those robots have the battery power to attack us when it looks like this building has been completely powered down?" Testing his hypothesis, he walked towards a light switch on the wall and flicked it. Nothing happened.

"Easy answer," said Hartmann. "Those robots were designed with battery life in mind. As long as they're in hibernation mode, they can hold a charge for several months. Their charge can also last for around twelve hours."

Lucas nodded. "The power must have been active not too long ago, then."

"That's what I'm thinking. As much as I think this is a bust, let's see if there's anything on the second level."

The duo's canine eyes acquainted themselves with the darkness inside the silent fortress, while their boots made minimal padding sounds on the concrete floor. Ahead to the right, Hartmann noticed a flight of stairs leading to a level above the ground floor. He began climbing them, all while stepping around the shrapnel created by the grenade-shocked robots from a minute earlier. His and Lucas's footsteps clanged against the metal steps, echoing through the building with a haunting aura. Apart from their boots and the sound of their winter clothes rustling, no additional noises stood out to either of them.

The stairwell ended in an opened door leading into yet another large chamber. Like the ground floor, it held a tremendous amount of computing equipment; but unlike that area, this equipment looked far more advanced. Screens covered each of the room's massive walls, and consoles ran below them. On the back wall, a large window that occupied half of the wall space allowed a small amount of light to fill the room from outside. Considering that the sun had fallen below the horizon hours ago, it did little to light up the area. In the center of the room was a large central kiosk composed of computer screens and consoles that seemed important. It allowed its user to view the entirety of the room from one central seat.

Of course, it was empty. The entire room looked neglected, as if it had been hastily abandoned and never returned to. Just like with the downstairs area, every piece of important hardware that may have been present at one point seemed absent.

"Damn," Hartmann grumbled. "I don't know what we're going to tell the DIS. 'We didn't find anything' isn't going to fly with them."

Stoic as ever, Lucas touched his muzzle and suggested, "Perhaps we should investigate the rocket launch structure. Determining the kind of rocket this place was designed to launch may prove useful."

Hartmann sighed. "You're probably right, but with this place's size, I'd guess it was built to launch a heavy supply rocket, probably to put a satellite in orbit. I suppose it could also be used to launch an ICBM, but this is not an ideal setup for that. A moveable launcher or an underground bunker would be much better for that kind of rocket." He paused, looking around the room. "Something is strange, though. The way the launch scaffolding was put together makes it look like it was built to fit the building, not the other way around. This place seems fairly old, and Cornerian Central Command has only recorded this one rocket launch from this fortress."

"I think a closer look is in order," said Lucas.

"I agree," Hartmann replied, walking towards the poorly lit right side of the room. On the right wall was a large blast door which he suspected would reveal the rocket launch scaffolding if opened. However, with the power to the building off, no immediate means to open the door stood out to either him or Lucas.

As he and his leader approached the blast door, Lucas spotted something in the back right corner of the room.

"Boss—I'm seeing some papers. I'm going to take a look at them."

Hartmann sighed, releasing a cloud of warm air. "Go ahead. I'm going to see if there's some way to open this door or go around it."

Nodding, Lucas jogged towards the corner of the room, where a duo of papers rested on the ground underneath a long computer desk that sat against the wall. He crouched and reached out for the papers, pushing aside a desk chair that blocked his left arm. With the sheets in his hands, he stood back up and turned towards the dim light filtering into the room from the large observation window built into the room's back wall. The faint illumination allowed his keen eyes to read the details of his newly acquired documents.

The two papers resembled black and white copies of blueprints, with both of them detailing a different invention. Lucas's eyes widened as he took in the information. The first piece of paper showed a computer-aided rendering of a man-portable jetpack with a profile low enough to give its wearer the ability to take it into nearly any combat situation. The second document documented a set of power armor capable or increasing one's running speed, strength, and resistance to damage. Notably, it looked far less bulky than the power armor models he had previously seen.

However, something else stood out to him—namely, the three names printed on the documents in their bottom left hand corners.

 _Dr. Andross Bowman_

 _Dr. Desmond Moon_

 _Dr. Leonard Brackett_

"Whoa, Boss," Lucas called out. "I've got something here."

Hartmann darted towards his teammate and stood next to him. Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the two documents. "Well, I'll be damned. This must have been some kind of research facility, and by the looks of it…" he stared at the three names in the corner of one of the documents. "…Andross and his two buddies—the 'Terrible Trio' as they were called—may have kept this place as some kind of secret workshop. It wouldn't be the first one that's been uncovered. Andross had been up to some shady stuff long before he got busted for it."

Lucas looked at Hartmann with his peripheral vision. "How many of these places did he have, as far as we know?"

"There was his main lab in Corneria City, but there wasn't anything interesting in there. The first secret lab was on Sunset Island, two hundred miles off the Cornerian coast. Corneria thinks that's where his bio-engineering experiments took place. If I'm not mistaken, this building might have been dedicated to his mechanical engineering experiments."

"I thought Andross was just a biologist," said Lucas.

"Mainly, yes, but his genius transferred to other fields as well. However, he had help. Desmond Moon was a master of mechanical engineering, and Dr. Brackett was a world-class computer scientist. They shared their expertise with each other, growing more and more intellectually potent over time." He paused, looking around the room. "Something is wrong, though. There can only be a few reasons why this place has been cleaned out."

Lucas nodded grimly. "You suspect that one of the Three has been here recently."

"Correct," said Hartmann. "I suspect Dr. Moon and/or Dr. Brackett. Andross would never risk traveling all the way up here to Fichina."

Lucas returned his gaze to the papers in his hand. "I'll do a deep search on those two to see if I can find anything about what they've been up to recently. I have to ask, though…"

At unease from his friend's unfinished comment, Hartmann nudged him and asked, "What?"

"Did you ever consider the possibility that Andross might really be dead? Reports claim that he's working for Macbeth, but the Macbeth government has vehemently denied that. The only evidence we have of him being alive is hearsay—and that EMP superweapon that was used on Northpoint. But couldn't that have been Dr. Moon's doing? For all we know, couldn't the designs for that weapon have been in here at one point?"

Hartmann exhaled. "Lucas, you might be right. The EMP cannon is believed to have been of Macbeth origin since most of East Fortuna's weapons seem to be coming from there. The Cornerians destroyed the weapon in their counterattack on Northpoint, but it's a safe bet that it came from one of Macbeth's largest weapons companies because East Fortuna doesn't have the facilities to field a weapon like that. Here's something to think about, though: Dr. Moon and Dr. Brackett shared the same passions that Andross did. So, even if Andross really is dead, our job—to put a stop his work—remains unchanged."

Lucas scratched his muzzle. "I had a thought. What if…"

Suddenly silent, the jackal shuddered and turned towards the vast observation window on the back wall. His ears stood erect, and his body trembled. Given that his iron constitution generally prevented him from showing significant emotion, Hartmann took notice.

"What's wrong, buddy?"

The jackal's voice was cold and low. "I sense a mighty, malevolent force. It's coming towards us. You need to get out of here now."

Hartmann's eyes went wide. "What? Who is it?"

Lucas shook his head. "I don't know, but they're already aware of our presence. You and Sheila need to get out of this place as quickly as possible."

"But what about you?"

"I will stay here. Whoever is out there has a similar composition to my own. They will be drawn to me by default. This should give you a window of escape."

Stunned, Hartmann glared at his friend and asked him, "Are you giving yourself up?"

Lucas shook his head. "No. I'm protecting you. Do not stay here. If you do not leave, you will become a liability to both me, yourself, and to Sheila. Go now." He handed him the two papers he had collected.

Without a word, Hartmann accepted the documents, looked out the back window, and turned around. He slowly jogged towards the stairwell leading back down to the lower chamber, but before he disappeared from Lucas's view, he turned around and asked, "Will you promise to get in touch with me again?"

The jackal closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I offer no guarantees."

"I…I understand," Hartmann sighed before he descended the stairs and exited the building via the auxiliary door that he and Lucas used to gain access to the structure.

Sprinting through the snow, he shoved the two papers into his coat and pulled out his car keys, making sure not to drop them into the thick powder underfoot. His borrowed SUV peered out from behind a snow bluff, and as he approached it, he saw Sheila fidgeting in the front passenger's seat. Upon reaching the vehicle, he gazed at the distant horizon. Just then, he heard the distant, unmistakable sound of pounding helicopter rotors.

Wasting no time, he opened his car door and jumped into the driver's seat. Turning the key in the ignition, he stomped on the gas pedal and spun around, spraying snow from the tires. The vehicle picked up speed in a hurry and quickly put a significant gap between itself and the abandoned arctic fortress.

Sheila grumbled and reached for her safety belt. Thanks to the speed at which Hartmann left the abandoned building, she had not been able to buckle it before. "Hey—what's going on here?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Huh? Well that's weird AF. Say—where's your Pokéfriend?"

Hartmann glanced at Sheila out of the corner of his eye. "He stayed behind—said that we needed to get out of there immediately."

"I could've guessed that from how you're driving," Sheila grumbled. "What's so important that it's about to make you plow into that snow dune over there?"

Hartmann clenched his teeth. "Shit."

Distracted by his conversation with Sheila, Hartmann lost focus on the terrain ahead and barreled towards a ten-foot-tall pile of snow. He slammed on the brakes, but the slick, snowy ground gave him little purchase. Time slowed to a crawl for him and the front end of the vehicle plowed into the snow bank. Chunks of snow loosened themselves from the pile and fell onto the windshield, although the glass did not crack.

Fuming, Hartmann threw the SUV into reverse and punched the throttle, but the only effect it had was to cause the wheels to spin futilely. The front end was wedged too far into the snow pile for it to have a hope of moving backwards.

The husky cursed under his breath and turned the engine off. Not looking at his passenger, he grumbled, "Get out and help me shovel."

Sheila crossed her arms and pouted, "Why? You're the one who drove into the giant pile of snowman guts."

"Do you want to get out of here or not?"

"Sure, but it's really cold out there, and I'm tired and hungry and weak and I don't like shovels."

Hartmann raised an angry eyebrow. "Please explain the shovel hate."

"Well, about a month ago, I stepped on a shovel someone left in the snow and the handle flew up and hit me in the face. I had a black eye for a week and all my friends made fun of me."

"What a tragedy," Hartmann mumbled, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Hey, it was embarrassing, okay? You try stepping on one of those things and see what happens. You know what? That's going to be my new insult—'go step on a shovel.'"

"It's not a very good insult," said Hartmann.

"Well, go step on a shovel!" Sheila yelped.

Hartmann shook his head. "That's never going to take off, so you might as well kill it off now. Please get out of the car and help me shovel."

"I want a favor first."

This time, Hartmann failed to prevent his eyes from rolling. "What?!"

"I wanna snowball fight later."

Hartmann froze. Looking straight ahead at the snow dune that he had stupidly buried himself in, he thought, _"God, please kill me now."_ However, since he had to say _something_ in response to Sheila, he blurted out, "Fine—I'll give you a snowball fight later. Now, can you help me get us out of this mess?"

"Yay, snowball fight!" Sheila yipped. "Sure—I'll help."

Grunting, Hartmann opened his door and climbed out of the SUV. He opened the back of the vehicle and pulled out two shovels, then moved to the front of the car and began hacking away at the powder that prevented him from backing out of the giant snow pile. His ears heard Sheila mimicking him on the other side of the car, but the ever-approaching sound of a helicopter captured his full attention.

" _It's really close."_

For a moment, he stopped shoveling and turned in the direction of the noise. He dropped the shovel and looked to his right. Through the constant veil of snow and mist, the vague outline of two helicopters appeared. One—a heavy cargo helicopter—led the way, while a smaller attack helo with no tail rotor trailed it. In-flight lights seemed absent from both aircraft. Whatever their purpose was, they did not want to be spotted.

As they flew past, Hartmann jogged his memory, trying to determine the make and origin of the helicopters.

" _The big one looks like a RWC-50, the most common cargo helicopter in the Macbeth Air Force. That attack chopper, though—that's a Red Group design. There's no telling who commissioned that one. Those guys will sell a weapon to anyone willing to cough up the money."_

He turned around completely to look at the two helicopters, growing smaller in the distance. As he did, he took a single step back. His foot caught on the edge of the shovel that he had discarded. The leverage of his boot pressing down on the metal caused the handle to fly upwards. The wood smacked him in the face with enough force to turn his hearing to white noise for a moment.

"Ha! You stepped on a shovel!" Sheila giggled.

Teeth clenched, Hartmann stared at the implement and contemplated snapping the wooden handle over his knee. However, he restrained himself and resorted to merely cursing under his breath and scowling while Sheila laughed.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Back inside the upper control room inside the fortress, Lucas fidgeted in the center of the floor. With every second, the sound of the approaching helicopters grew louder. At the same time, a powerful, stifling mental signature increased in strength. He felt their owner's presence, defined by a swirling vortex of anger and spite not directed at any one thing in particular.

He glanced at his legs and growled when he noticed them quivering.

" _Come on—stay strong."_

He suspected that he already knew the species of the person to whom the oppressive thought patterns belonged, and this made him even more nervous.

" _I've never encountered one of them before—other than me."_

He held his position and stared out of the massive observation window on the back wall just in time to the see the two helicopters come into view. Their rotors created a pummeling wall of sound that echoed through the concrete walls of the cavernous room. In under a minute, the sound came exclusively from the roof directly above him. Then, all became silent. The helicopters had landed.

Taking a deep breath, Lucas turned his attention to a door on the far right side of the chamber, close to the blast doors that presumably would open up to reveal the rocket launch scaffolding. Part of him had the notion to press himself against the wall and lie in wait for the building's visitor—or visitor _s—_ to walk through that door, but he realized that the one person broadcasting maleficent thought patterns to the world already knew that he was inside the building.

So, he waited. He stepped closer to the thick, steel door, but did not deviate far from the center of the floor. The sound of faint footfalls echoed from behind the door. Lucas steeled himself, somewhat knowing what to expect but also being prepared for something completely uncanny.

The door opened, revealing a group of five soldiers, all wearing combat armor and carrying weapons—except for one of them. The troops spotted him instantly and raised their weapons. Four of the soldiers sprinted into the room and spread out across the floor, all taking aim at Lucas from different angles. Yet, none of the four possessed the disturbing thought patterns.

Lucas's paid barely any attention to the four apart from taking a brief note of their species: a towering mastodon, a short but muscular gorilla with a hoary, rugged beard, a sinister-looking horned owl, and a slender white tigress. All of them wore matching black uniforms defined by external armor pads that resembled power armor. No insignias or identifying regalia appeared anywhere on them. Following the first four, the fifth soldier appeared; and it was on her that Lucas placed the entirety of his focus.

A vixen of moderate height, she stepped into the room with an uncanny amount of confidence. Her gait exhibited a noticeable swagger that unnerved him. This was not a product of egotistic bravado, and it contained no sensual undertones. No, this was the unspoken confidence that came from the knowledge of one's own overwhelming power. As the woman approached Lucas, he noticed several details about her.

First, her outfit did not match the others'. As opposed to the armor of the first four, her uniform looked more like an alarmingly tight bodysuit that he suspected had some purpose other than sex appeal, even though it had the effect of revealing the outline of virtually every curve, indentation, and muscle in her body. Her suit's surface featured a vast array of subtle hexagonal crosshatch weaves, and it even seemed to cover her tail.

On second thought, no—something did not line up. Every inch of her pitch black flesh seemed devoid of fur. It appeared to be made of the same material as her bodysuit. Then, it hit him.

" _She has no fur. That suit is her actual skin. What the…"_

Other apparent add-ons to her outfit included molded black boots and a utility belt. She wore fingerless gauntlets that exposed her claws, which gleamed suspiciously in the moonlight and suggested a non-organic composition.

" _Is that…metal?"_

Other details about the strange woman stood out to him. First and foremost, a vast network of glowing lines on her body/suit pulsated with every beat of her heart. The lines bore an uncanny resemblance to arteries and veins. Even the vixen's black hair incandesced with hints of blue in rhythm with her pulse. Apart from the faint blue glow, every centimeter of her being lacked color and took on the darkness of the bleakest winter night—except for her eyes.

In the darkness of the room, they stared at him, piercing his being with a glare that went beyond that which was material. Her eyes themselves looked borderline soulless—instead of a white sclera, the background stretched into an infinite abyss of black. A haunting ring of neon blue marked the center of her vision. Both her irises glowed in the dark room to a degree where if she was to look at the ground in total darkness, she would be able to find her way back into the light.

But she looked like the kind who would have preferred to remain in the darkness.

Perhaps most notably in comparison to the other four, she carried no weapons. Lucas had an uneasy suspicion that it was because she did not need them. While the other four soldiers continued to point their guns at him, the vixen moved in his direction, sizing him up.

While moving towards him, she motioned to the four soldiers and snapped, "Leave us, now!"

The urgency in her words filled Lucas with suspicion about something, but he did not know the source of it. One by one, the four troops jogged towards the entry door and exited the second level chamber. When the door leading to the rooftop helicopter pad slammed shut, the black vixen stepped to within ten feet of Lucas and came to a stop. Fixing him with her anthracite eyes, she spoke in a husky voice that seemed to echo on its own with traces of a ghostly whisper that followed her words.

"Intriguing. It's not every day that I encounter an _Opuckot."_

Lucas kept his mouth shut. His legs still trembled.

The vixen smirked. "I see your bloodline is tainted, though. You must be from the lineage of Dhana."

Lucas growled, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You lie," said the vixen.

"Absolutely not."

The black vixen took a short step back. "Who are you?"

"You first." Lucas crossed his arms. By sheer force of will, he managed to calm his twitching leg.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of the vixen's mouth. "Call me Agatha. You?"

"Lucas."

Agatha nodded and curtsied with a quick bow. "Charming." She sighed. "It makes me happy to finally talk to another _Opuckot_ in person."

Lucas stamped his foot. "What does that even mean?"

"Do you know _nothing_ about your ancestry?"

Frowning, the jackal replied. "No. I've never had a family, so I've never had anyone to tell me where I came from."

The black vixen turned to the side and exhaled. An abnormally large vapor cloud streamed from her nostrils. "In your language, 'Opuckot' means 'Exalted.' It's a Cerinian term, used to describe the fourth and final caste of extrasensory power."

"Good to know," said Lucas.

The black vixen's facial structure suddenly hardened. "Enough of the pleasantries. Why are you here?"

Lucas crossed his arms. His leg twitched again. "The same reason you are."

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what reason is that?"

Admittedly, Lucas was guessing, but he had a feeling that the truth was not far off. "You're here to recover pieces of Andross's research that were left in this building. You might as well leave, because there's nothing here."

Startled, Agatha took an uncomfortable step towards Lucas. "My, you are a perceptive one."

At such close range, more details about the vixen's figure stood out to him. In spite of her bodysuit revealing just about every detail related to her physique, none of her intimate feminine attributes¹—for lack of a better term—stood out. Lucas pondered this while considering her metallic claws that seemed to imply further metal enhancements.

Agatha snapped his concentration. "Like what you see?"

Lucas glared into her black eyes, as terrifying as that was. "Not bad for a machine."

Traces of anger appeared on Agatha's face. "Call me that again, and I will make you regret it."

"Is it not the truth?" Lucas shrugged.

"No," Agatha huffed. "I am living flesh. I bleed when I'm cut. I can feel pain—and I can make others feel it as well. Do not test me."

Lucas lowered his voice to a harsh rasp. "Who are you with?"

"That is none of your business," Agatha replied, her expression cold and harsh. "And if you attempt to scan the minds of my squadmates, I will kill you where you stand. Do I make myself clear?"

Lucas nodded.

"Good, because I don't have the time for this," said Agatha. "If the rest of this building really is empty like you say it is, I need to get going. Time is a precious commodity."

"There's nothing of interest in here. If there was any hardware before, it's either gone or destroyed now. You can take my word for it."

The black vixen closed her eyes and sighed. "I sense that you are telling the truth. Thank you for your openness." Suddenly, however, her eyes flashed open. This time, however, they lit up with a dull orange color. The outlines on her bodysuit mimicked the change in hue. "…But I also sense that you are hiding something."

" _Crap."_

"You found something. What was it?"

Realizing that lying to a powerful, skilled mind-reader would only end in tears, Lucas chose honesty as his response. "I found two papers."

"What were they for? Do you have them?"

Lucas kept his mouth shut.

The outlines on Agatha's body glowed a brighter, more searing shade of orange. "I asked you a question, you whelp."

The vixen's insult triggered a reaction in Lucas. His canines poked out from the edges of his muzzle, and in the darkness of the room, his red eyes illuminated somewhat. "The papers are not worth your time."

Growing more frustrated by the second, Agatha countered, "If that's the case, then you'll have no problem telling me what they contained."

"And what if I say no?"

Agatha's outlines turned to a searing, hateful blood red. At the same time, her voice deepened and took on an even more malevolent property. "You don't want to do that."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "I am not afraid of you, Demon."

"I asked you a question, and I intend to get an answer," Agatha barked.

With the vixen at such close proximity, Lucas felt a sudden blast of heat wash over him. _"That's not natural at all. Boss, I hope you got out of this place a long time ago."_

Not wanting to face the wrath of the monstrosity in front of him, he acquiesced to her demand. "The papers looked like copies of blueprints for a jetpack and a set of power armor."

Agatha's blazing red coloration rapidly switched back to a deep blue. The heat wave radiating from her body subsided, and she took a deep, calming breath. Her voice returned to normal. "Oh. You were right. Those are not worth my time at all. Thank you for your honesty. I would have hated to have to kill you over two insignificant pieces of paper."

"Same," Lucas replied.

Agatha lifted her left eyebrow. However, her color remained blue. "I like how you think you could take me on."

"Pride comes before a fall."

In response, Agatha shook her head and grumbled, "Please—if you had any idea who you were dealing with, you'd realize that I am not boasting. I am simply making you aware of reality."

Lucas grumbled under his breath, but said nothing.

"Oh well," said Agatha. "I've wasted enough time already. I must be going."

"Huh. I'm surprised you're not going to try to kill me first."

The vixen smirked. "I may be heartless, but I respect my own people."

"I'm sure," Lucas groaned.

"Don't test my generosity, little man."

Few words could describe how much Lucas hated that title, but he managed to keep a lid on his rage that drove him in the direction of temporarily abandoning his pacifism and punching the vixen square in the face. While he stewed, Agatha walked towards the exit door on the room's right side wall. Before she closed it behind her, she turned her head and winked at him.

" _She is absolutely going to try to kill me,"_ thought Lucas. " _I need to get to the most secure part of the building immediately."_

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Emerging on the rooftop of the abandoned northern fortress, Agatha exhaled a large cloud of vapor into the frigid air and turned towards the two helicopters parked on the roof. All four of her subordinates stood near the two aircraft, fidgeting in place while waiting for an order. After a moment, the tallest of the group—the powerful mammoth—spoke with a voice as thick and hairy as he was. "Who was that?"

Agatha halted and stared at the man. "Someone I'm going to be keeping a close eye on."

The tigress next to him commented, "Why don't we just take care of him now?"

"Shhh…" Agatha replied, putting a finger to her lips. "I'll explain this later. Everybody, get onboard the helos. We're getting out of here."

Frustration in his voice, the white-haired gorilla spat, "Are you kidding? We flew all the way out here for _nothing?"_

Agatha sighed. "Yes, Justus. We _did_ come out here for nothing. I'm going to have to speak with the boss about this. He won't be any happier than you are."

The last member of the group—the ominous-looking horned owl—opined, "Well, at least we know what happened to everything that was supposed to be in there."

Agatha curled the corner of her mouth. "Any number of people could have been responsible for that."

"Sure," said the avian, "But if the Cornerians were the ones who cleared it out, there would have been at least one patrol group out here."

Baring her teeth, Agatha performed the 'throat cutting' motion with her left hand.

Perturbed, the owl protested, "What? I'm just making an observ…"

"Shut your mouth and get into the cargo chopper. As I said, we will discuss this later. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," the owl replied, his face awash with anxiety. Within seconds, all four troops climbed aboard the two helicopters, with the gorilla jumping into the cockpit of the tail-rotorless attack helo by himself. When the tigress, the mammoth, and the owl had entered the cargo chopper, Agatha climbed aboard behind them and shut the side door as the mammoth took a seat behind the controls and powered up the overhead rotors.

The four sat in silence as the aircraft lifted off the building's roof and ascended into the air, with the attack chopper following suit. The two helicopters turned around and began heading back in the direction from which they came. However, after mere seconds, Agatha reached for a handheld radio mounted to the side of the cargo chopper's interior and pressed the button on the side.

"Justus."

" _Yes, Captain?"_ the gorilla replied through his cockpit radio.

"Turn around and rain hell on that building. Turn it into dust. This would be a great time to try out the MOSP-41.²"

" _Roger that."_

Clipping the radio back into its mount, Agatha spoke to the mammoth piloting her helicopter. "Boomer, turn around. I want to see this."

"Yes, Captain."

As the cargo chopper rotated back towards the fortress, Justus armed the attack helicopter's weapons and took aim at the building. On the helicopter's two tiny 'wings' that stuck out from the middle of its fuselage, two large, streamlined, bomb-like armaments hung. The next moment, both of them ignited and launched into the night air, streaming towards the building.

The two weapons impacted the fortress, penetrating through the exterior walls with disturbing ease. A split second later, the weapons detonated inside the structure. A shock wave filled the air as concrete and metal ripped and crumbled. The fortress's walls all but disintegrated from their midpoints. With no structural integrity remaining, the building collapsed in on itself with a cloud of dust that mixed with the blizzard outside and the smoke cloud from the two weapons.

Agatha stared at the wreckage of the building, then closed her eyes. She opened them three seconds later.

"He's dead. What a bitter disappointment." She grinned deviously.

"…For him."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Okay, fine. I'm talking about her nipples and vagina, you filthy animal.

2 Massive Ordnance Strategic Penetrator.


	19. Two Conditions

**Arc V: Party Crashing¹**

 _Part 1: Two Conditions_

 _Chapter 18_

Returning to Corneria with both Rena and his father helped put Fox in a better frame of mind than he had experienced in months. His company's finances still looked shaky, but if Krystal followed through with her promise to pay him for helping her in Eladard, his formerly-inevitable bankruptcy would become a mere possibility.

After parking the _Great Fox_ at the CCI airport, Fox claimed his massive offroad truck from the long-term parking lot and piled in, along with his father, Rena, Krystal, Slippy, and Katt. Seating for the six of them was a challenge, but they all managed to fit thanks to the truck's dual bench seats. Krystal, Slippy, and Katt sat in the back seat, while James occupied the shotgun seat. Rena sat between the two vulpines in the center of the front row. As Fox navigated through Corneria City's tight streets, she leaned against him and rested her arm on his shoulder.

Behind the three foxes, Krystal scrunched her lip and nudged Katt, seated next to her. "Is there something I'm not understanding with her?"

Katt shrugged. "Hell if I know. I just met her, too. However…"

Krystal's ears perked up in unease. "What?"

"Have you ever watched any anime?"

"No," Krystal replied. "I'm a bit old fashioned, as embarrassing as that sounds."

"Pfft," Katt scoffed, brushing her comment off with a hand wave. "You don't have to apologize for that. But, the reason I asked is because I have a bad feeling that she's a lot like one of the crazy character types that shows up in anime."

Krystal glanced at the pink feline. "Which one?"

"Yandere. Crazy in love with the main guy. If someone gets too close to their 'true love,' the yandere might kill them. Literally."

Frowning, Krystal glared at the back of Rena's head and muttered, "I don't think I'm going to get along well with her."

"She seems like a bit of a tsundere, too," Katt added. "Rock-hard exterior, comes across as really bitchy, but has a soft, squishy center underneath it all. I have a bad feeling that she might be both of those types."

"These terms are gibberish to me. You seem to know what you're talking about, though, so I'll take your word for it."

"You know, I'd be more than happy to get you up to speed on your anime terms," Katt offered. "Fox has a great rec room in his base, and if the yellow terror is as much of a weeb as she looks like, some of the top series will probably show up the instant you turn on the TV and open Webflix²."

The instant Katt whispered the word 'weeb,' Rena's ears swiveled in her direction. A second later, the yellow vixen turned her head and glanced at Katt, anger in her eyes. However, she said nothing, instead choosing to raise her hand and give Katt an upraised middle finger.

" _Bitch,"_ Katt muttered under her breath. Krystal heard her and sighed with a faint sympathetic smile.

After thirty minutes of maneuvering through city traffic, the six finally arrived at Fox's "base." They climbed out of Fox's truck the instant he turned off the engine, and each of them walked towards the side entry doors. As their feet left the asphalt of the parking lot and alighted on the concrete surrounding the building, Fox turned to Krystal. "You say you know where we need to go to steal the plans for the Landmaster and the Arwing, right?"

Krystal nodded, replying without looking at Fox. "The plans are going to be kept in the Red Group's company database, deep inside their main headquarters in Eladard. As far as I know, the database is not connected to the internet outside of a local connection to other computers in the building. The Red Group is famous for keeping a tight lid on their projects."

"I see," said Fox. "Well, we absolutely have to get a hold of those things. If East Fortuna becomes the sole user of these vehicles, they'll have a huge advantage. There must be some way to do this." He lowered his head and scratched his muzzle.

Walking alongside Fox, James suggested, "Since we're all together right now, maybe we should hold a meeting to come up with some options. A little pow-wow, if you know what I mean."

Fox raised a bewildered eyebrow. "No, I _don't_ know what you mean."

James brushed off his previous comment with a hand wave. "Aw, screw it. Call it a meeting, then."

The brief verbal joust came to quick end when Katt pointed to something and spoke up. "Hey—looks like you got some packages."

True to her word, when the group looked up at the base's side entrance, they saw two slim boxes stacked on top of each other next to the right part of the door.

Fox narrowed his eyebrows. "I don't remember ordering anything. Did anyone else here get some stuff?"

Blushing, Krystal darted ahead of the group and explained, "I think these are for me." Not giving Fox the chance to inspect the delivery, she scooped up the packages and held them to her chest as the other five approached the door.

Fox crossed his arms and walked up to the blue vixen. "Krystal, what did you buy? Look, I've got to make sure there's no funny business going on here. If you don't tell me what's in the boxes, I'll have to open them myself."

Krystal grumbled under her breath, then blurted out, "It's just some bloody clothes, okay?"

Behind the others, Slippy reached under his tiny hat and scratched his head. "Uh, why would you order bloody clothes? That's nasty!"

Krystal responded with a death stare that could have made grass wilt. _"Is this what my life has come to?"_

While the furious vixen tried to stare a hole through Slippy, James looked upwards and commented, "Ah, the Coastal Macbeth accent. As beautiful as it ever was. I've always had a soft spot for ladies who talk like that."

Fox froze and stared at his father with terror in his eyes. "Dad, no!"

To his shock, Krystal broke into a warm smile and tilted her head. She looked at the elder fox and cooed, "What a gentleman. Thank you."

"I don't believe this," Fox mumbled to himself, all while burying his face in his palm.

At the tail end of the group, Rena stamped her foot and snapped, "If you're not going to open the door, get out of the way so I can get in."

The overwhelming temptation to fire back at the yellow vixen consumed Katt, but she thought better of it and held her tongue. Fox looked back at Rena with disapproval, but at the same time, her demand had the effect she intended—namely, the effect of making Fox open the door.

After holding it for Krystal, he followed her into the entry hallway and instructed her, "Head to the conference room after you're done taking your clothes to your room. We'll start brainstorming as soon as you're there."

Not feeling like giving a verbal response, Krystal planted a telepathic 'okay' in Fox's mind. He smiled. Despite the potential for extreme invasions of his privacy, he somehow enjoyed it when Krystal spoke to him with her mind. Part of him wished that he had the same ability. Perhaps there was some way to achieve that?

For the time being, he pushed that thought away and led Rena, Slippy, Katt, and his father towards his base's conference room. One of the largest rooms in the building apart from the gym and the loading bay that also functioned as a garage, it stood close to the main reception desk where Miyu and Fay sat behind their computers, trying to convince Fox that they were doing legitimate work and not browsing dating sites.

They failed.

The instant Fox laid eyes on the two, he called out, "Good afternoon, ladies—we're going to have a meeting in the conference room. We could use your help. Come on in as soon as you get the chance. I know your workload must be crippling right now." He winked, then shook his head and turned towards the nearby conference room door.

Upon reaching the door, he pulled it open and stepped into the darkened conference room, where the rest of the team sat at an oval-shaped table in the center of the room. Katt and Slippy sat on the back side of the table facing the door, while James occupied one of the chairs opposite them. Four open seats stood between James and Slippy, even though Fox was entitled to the 'special' chair at the right head of the table. Of course, Rena had claimed that seat for herself and had no intention of leaving it.

Fox gave the yellow vixen a disapproving glance and then took the seat next to his father. After a brief wait, Miyu and Fay entered the room, followed by Krystal. The blue vixen moved for the chair next to Fox and dropped into it. For a brief moment, the two locked eyes; and Fox found himself struggling to look away. Was it just him, or did her eyes have a faint glow to them in the darkness of the conference room?

Mercifully for him, he managed to collect himself and address the rest of his associates before any of them could force him to snap back to reality.³

"Thanks for coming, team. We've got a few things to discuss. Since Rena is going to interrupt me if I don't get down to brass tacks immediately, I'll hurry up and explain everything. Basically, the Red Group in Eladard is building two experimental weapons for the East Fortunan forces. Based on what Krystal's told me, a lady by the name of Christina Ortega is financing the project. We have one goal—get the blueprints for the weapons. If you've got any ideas, let's hear them."

Crickets.

After ten whole seconds of complete silence, Fox slumped forward in his seat and grumbled, "Just come up with something. I don't care if it's stupid. We just need to get the ball rolling."

Finally, Miyu—occupying the seat between Fay and Rena—broke the silence. "Okay, since anything goes here, what if we tried disguising ourselves as employees and just walked in? You know how it is—if you try hard enough to make yourself look like you belong somewhere, you will."

"That's true, but I think we're going to be dealing with more strict security than what we're used to. We're trying to get into a top-level military research company that screens their employees on the level of the Cornerian Department of Internal Security," Fox replied.

"What's the Department of Internal Security?" asked Slippy.

"There's no such thing. It doesn't exist," Miyu replied.

"But they've got a website— cor . dis . gov," Fay suggested, resting her head on her hands.

Miyu glanced at the canine. "Yeah, but when you go to it, it's just one page that says 'We do not exist. We are not spying on you. We are not watching your every waking movement and collecting your personal information for undisclosed reasons.'"⁴

At the end of the table, Katt smirked at the others and said, "I know someone who worked for that group. I got him to wipe all their old data on me—and I'll tell you what, that was a good move." She exhaled and leaned back in her chair.

Having heard enough talk about the mysterious Cornerian intelligence agency, Fox held up his hands and snapped, "Enough with the DIS. We need to get into the Red Group's infrastructure somehow. You know, now I've had an idea. Maybe we could slip in as contractors for a service they need."

"Fat chance of them hiring a Cornerian company to fix a problem in Eladard," Slippy opined.

"That's a good point," Fox replied. "We'd have to make ourselves seem like we're local—and professional. One thing that I just realized is that they've probably already got service contracts with a ton of different companies to manage their operation." He paused and let out a frustrated groan. "There has to be some way in!"

At the head of the table on the right side, Rena offered a suggestion. "The Red Group's a pretty huge company. I'm sure they've got thousands of employees, and if they do, that means they've got bunches of birthdays, weddings, retirements, and a ton of random celebrations."

"What are you getting at?" Fox asked, intrigued by her statement.

"I'm saying we could go as entertainment for an office party or something and find a way in that way."

Fox leaned forward and stroked his muzzle in thought. Around him, the rest of the team considered the idea in silence. Then, Fox returned his attention to Rena. "That seems like it could be too hit-and-miss to work. Those office parties aren't usually public knowledge, either. How are we going to find out about them if we want to get in as entertainment?"

"Watch and learn, Senpai," Rena replied. Pulling a tablet computer from under the table, she placed it on the tabletop and began typing on the digital keypad.

"Let's see here...Poodle⁵ search for 'Red Group news'. Top headline from yesterday: 'Red Group COO announces retirement.'"

Fox's ears perked up. "There might actually be something to this idea after all. Good job, Rena."

Although the yellow vixen wanted to voice her appreciation, she held up a finger and kept her focus on the screen. Having gathered the name of the retiring chief operations officer, she navigated to the popular social media site FaceSpace⁶ and entered the executive's name. In seconds, a list of his online friends appeared on his profile. She noticed the rest of the team around her beginning to fidget in their seats from lack of activity, but she kept her eyes trained on the screen.

One after another, she viewed the pages and discussion threads posted by several of the COO's company friends until she found something. Despite the font on the screen being too small for anyone other than her to see, she turned her tablet around and held it up in triumph. "The finance department is having a retirement party for this guy in two weeks. They're looking for someone to cater the event, and they're also looking for some…" her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a dark property. "…Adult entertainment. Typical."

Fox's mind wandered in one direction. Namely, the direction of a voluptuous red vixen who had every qualification for the job he needed done—and also the same red vixen who likely had no desire to talk with him.

" _I don't_ need _her for this job, strictly speaking,"_ he wondered. _"Right?"_

With a frustrated sigh, he turned to Rena and said, "I've got to give you credit, Rena. I'm not sure we're going to find a better option than that if we want an easy way in. Unfortunately, I don't see how we can make this work. How would you do it?"

Somewhat arrogantly, Rena explained, "Well, what I would do is set up a webpage for a catering company in Eladard and then exploit internet advertising codes to spam the company employees' pages with ads for our catering company. If they see us soon enough, they might just give us a call."

"Okay," Fox replied, "You start working on the website, then. Does anyone here know how to cook?"

Only Slippy raised his hand.

"Slippy? You can do that? Be honest—are you any good?" Fox asked.

"Eh, I think I'm okay at it. I'd eat it."

"You'd eat anything, fatty," Rena growled.

"Hey—at least I don't eat so little that I turn into a walking skeleton like you."

"What did you just call me?!"

Not liking the direction of the conversation, Fox raised his voice and waved the feuding teammates off. "Enough! Slippy, if you can cook, I'll take your word for it. It just has to be good enough for us not to make anyone at the party sick. If we're going to get access to the building by doing the catering, I don't think many of us will be able to get in. Most of the time, only two or three people are there for that. It's just an office party."

While Fox finished his statement, Katt tapped her chin and looked in Rena's direction. "You mentioned that they're looking for some adult entertainment at the party?"

Rena rested her head on her hand and grumbled, "Yes. Farking degenerates."

Katt nodded, turning towards Fox. "Hey Fox—doesn't Scarlet have experience with that?"

Instead of giving a straightforward response, Fox buried his face in his hands and lowered his head. "Yes, she does. It's just…uh…we're not on speaking terms right now."

Katt lifted an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Refraining from looking at the feline, Fox replied, "I don't want to talk about it. What was your idea?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe she would be interested in signing up for that role."

Fox sighed. "Normally, I would say that's a great idea, but I just don't know right now."

Opening his hands, James nudged him and suggested, "I could talk to her if you want."

"No, no, no," Fox insisted, waving his father off. "I'll talk to her. I need to make things right with her anyway."

A brief silence ensued. That is, until Fay spoke up. "Is there anything Miyu and I can do to help with this job?"

"Possibly," replied Fox. "Let me run down the list: we need a place to stay in Eladard, we need a website for our catering company, I need to talk to Scarlet, we need to find a way for a few of us to get into the main part of the Red Group facility, and of course we need to find a way to swipe the Landmaster blueprints from the complex's main server."

"There's another problem," James added. "The government of Eladard doesn't like mercenaries. We can all get into the country as civilians, but if we want to bring weapons—and I'm sure we will—we'll need a special license. I doubt that's something you can get just by signing a few papers."

Fox frowned. He had not thought of that. "Damn. That really is a problem. Let's not throw the whole idea out, though. We might not need our combat equipment."

"Yeah, but it would be nice," Katt countered.

For a moment, Fox paused. He stared at the surface of the table, gathering his options. At the point where his eyes began zooming into the subtle scratches in the top of the black conference table, he looked up and announced, "I've got a few things to take care of. Until then, let's not make any final plans."

Upon hearing this, Krystal's body language changed to reflect a sudden sense of anxiety. "Fox, we need to move quickly, though."

"I know, Krystal," Fox replied. "Just give me a few hours to work this out. Until then, this meeting is over."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

The drive to Scarlet's downtown apartment was spent in silence. Fox kept his radio off, preferring instead to mull over what he planned to do to regain Scarlet's trust.

" _I hope she's even willing to talk to me. I honestly have no idea how I'm going to convince her to help us out. Man, maybe I really should have had my dad handle this. What is his deal, anyway? Women just seem to throw themselves at him. It makes no sense!"_

As he had a few days earlier, he located Scarlet's parking garage and inched through the entry gate with only centimeters to spare. After ascending to the top floor of the parking deck and locating an empty space, he parked his truck and shut it off. He climbed out more slowly than usual. His every footstep felt more difficult than usual. Although the walk across the skyway leading into Scarlet's apartment building was not particularly long, it felt interminable today.

" _She's going to slam the door in my face again once I tell her what I'd like her help with. Why am I even doing this? I know the answer is going to be 'no.'"_

Regardless of what he knew to be true, he had to exhaust every option available to him in order to create the most effective strategy for infiltrating the Red Group's main facility. Leaving the skyway, he punched Scarlet's security code into the pad blocking access to her building and stepped into the tower.

He advanced down the hallway, passing the few other doors on the floor until he reached the last one on the left. Due to Scarlet's penthouse being the largest room on the floor by far, the distance between her door and the previous one dwarfed the space between the two doors before it.

As before, he hesitated upon reaching Scarlet's door. He cringed, his pulse quickening as he ran through every possible scenario in his mind relating to how Scarlet would react to seeing him again. Part of him hoped that she was not home, but at the same time, he _needed_ to talk with her. That, and he had noticed her red convertible sports car in its usual spot in the apartment's covered parking deck. He knew that she was behind the door.

Gathering his courage, he rang the doorbell and waited. After a few seconds, the sound of Scarlet's foot pads rustled against the carpet from the other side of the door. Fox bit his lip and tried to look relaxed as Scarlet unbolted her large, wooden door and cautiously pushed it open.

"Fox? What are you doing here?"

Fox froze, not because he felt put on the spot, but because Scarlet looked nothing like how he remembered her. Instead of a slinky catsuit, provocative sleepwear, or minimal to nonexistent clothing, she wore what would have been considered normal 'street clothes.' A dark green t-shirt covered her upper body, complementing her faded black jeans that actually looked like they fit comfortably. She wore her black hair in its usual style, but her complete wardrobe change made her look like a different person in Fox's eyes. Sure, her more presentable clothes did nothing to mask her desirable physique, but in contrast to her old clothes, they did not go out of their way to call attention to it.

Paradoxically, this turned Fox on.

For the moment, though, he pushed his thoughts aside and responded to Scarlet. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't handle that well."

The red vixen's eyes softened. "Oh, no, Fox. It was completely my fault. I should have known better." Without an additional word, she pushed her door all the way open and drew Fox in for a gentle embrace. While stroking his back, she explained, "You made me realize how degrading my old lifestyle was. I want people to love me for who I am, not for what I look like with my clothes off. So, thanks, Fox."

Fox awkwardly reciprocated Scarlet's affection while trying not to appear too amorous, although the sensation of her sizable breasts compressing against his body shifted his libido in a different direction. "Wait—what did you do?"

"I made a few changes," said Scarlet. "I'm not renewing my modeling contract after it expires in a few months, and I'm overhauling my wardrobe. I figure that the first step towards being the woman I want to be is looking the part. I'm getting rid of my catsuits, so if you know anyone who wants them, let me know." She sighed. "They were all too small for me, anyway."

Fox swallowed. _"That explains a lot."_ At the exact same time, a darker, cynical train of thought materialized in his mind.

" _Oh, the irony. The one time I actually want her to act sexy, she's not interested. I really should have had my dad talk to her instead of me. Speaking of him, did she ever find out that he was captured by the East Fortunans? Should I tell her even though he's back? He did lose an eye, after all. Nah—this isn't a good time to talk about that. Stick to the script, Fox."_

After a firm pat on Scarlet's back to cue her into the fact that he wanted to stop hugging, Fox managed to push himself away from her. However, his motions suggested something about his intentions to Scarlet. The vixen tilted her head, with her ears perking up in curiosity. "Is there something else on your mind, Fox?"

" _Yes—where has_ this _Scarlet been all my life?"_

Fox scratched the back of his head—the immediate giveaway for an awkward question. "Yeah, there is. My team and I are trying to get into a highly secured facility by getting hired on to help host an office party. I was kind of hoping you might be interested in helping out."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "What do you need my help with?"

Fox lowered his eyes, all while trying not to lose the chance to sell Scarlet on an idea that even he no longer had much interest in. _"And this is where it all goes to hell. You know what? I almost want to make something up on the spot, go to a gentleman's club, pay a stripper to do the job in Eladard, and then take this gorgeous woman out for dinner tonight."_

Unfortunately, 'almost' had the last word.

"Okay…" he hesitated, "The people organizing this office party want to hire some adult entertainment. I was hoping that you might be interested in being that entertainment." His voice trailed off and became less and less convicted the longer he spoke.

As he expected, Scarlet's expression soured instantly. She frowned and crossed her arms, pulling her feet closer together. However, she did not fire back with a vehement 'no.' Instead, she held her tongue for close to ten seconds, staring at Fox while forming her response.

Finally, she spoke. "I'll do it—under two conditions."

Fox had a suspicion that he would not like these 'conditions' of hers. "What?"

"First," replied Scarlet, "I want someone to perform with me. I'm not doing this alone. Second…" She pointed at three things in sequence, starting with her, then him, and finally the luxurious king bed behind her.

Fox clenched his teeth.

"Look, I know you're not in a position to pay me for this," Scarlet continued, keeping her arms crossed. "This way, we both get what we want: you get me for your job, and I get you for one night. What do you say?"

Scratching his head, Fox took a slight step to the right. "Is there something else I can do for…"

"No."

Fox cringed, not exactly wanting to take her up on her offer but at the same time not wanting to lose the chance of bringing her to Eladard with his team. "Scarlet, I…"

"Quit waffling," the vixen growled, "What are you trying to accomplish by sneaking into this place in Eladard, anyway?"

Under normal circumstances, Fox would have kept the information about the job to himself, but he trusted Scarlet enough to speak about it. "There are two blueprints inside the Red Group's main facility that give the details on two new weapons that East Fortuna is going to get unless we do something about it. These weapons could turn the tide of the war if they're used in large enough numbers. Does that change anything for you?"

Scarlet scoffed. "Fox, this is going to sound really bad, but I don't like to candy-coat things. Truth is, I don't care about East Fortuna or how their little rebellion pans out. I'm a successful mercenary with enough grit to adapt to just about any situation. I don't think I've ever explained this to you, but I live for two things: I live for the money, and I live for the thrill. I'm a Cornerian citizen, but I can change that at the drop of a hat if the economy tanks or the government goes crazy. Trying to convince me with your 'greater good' argument isn't going to do anything. I also think you're insulting your own intelligence by believing that there's a 'greater good' that involves killing people for money."

That hurt. Something about her statement resonated with Fox as being true, but at the same time, his own convictions about justified violence rose up to challenge her opinion. A quick thought entered his mind, and he acted upon it.

"What about Hartmann, then?"

The husky vigilante's name prompted Scarlet to let out an exasperated huff and look off to the side. "Damn it. You got me. He's one in a million, though, okay?"

"But it does prove my point," replied Fox, a faint smile crossing his lips.

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, fine. Look at it this way, though: if Corneria was a tiny peon country that couldn't pay you very much and needed your help against people trying to intimidate it, you'd move somewhere else where you'd get paid better."

Fox shook his head. "Nope. Sorry Scarlet, but that's just you. If money was all I was after, I'd have set up a company like Wolf's with a full-on private army willing to take just about any sketchy job as long as the pay was good enough. I stand behind what I believe in, and I'm taking my team to Eladard to get my hands on these blueprints because I believe the world will be a better place if East Fortuna doesn't have the exclusive ability to use these weapons. It also helps that I'm going to turn around and sell those blueprints to everyone who wants them the instant I get them secured." He paused, allowing for a subtle smirk. "While I'm at it, I also believe that prostitution and sexual exploitation are wrong, so I'm going to have to say 'no' to your demands. Sorry. I'll have to figure something else out."

With that, he turned and began walking back towards the skyway exit door on the other end of the long hall.

Scarlet's eyes went wide, and terror gripped her. _"Oh no! You're blowing it again! Dammit—not_ that _kind of blowing, you slut. What were you thinking? You really thought he'd be interested in coerced sex? What kind of idiot are you?"_

While Fox walked down the hall, she darted out of her room and shouted, "No! Wait! Come back! I take it all back! I'll go with you!"

Fox turned around. His stoic, frustrated expression gradually shifted into a smile. "Thank you. Really—thank you so much."

Scarlet blushed. "I'm such a dirtbag."

"Don't be," replied Fox, his voice as gentle as Scarlet had ever remembered it being. "I know there's a moral compass in there somewhere. You probably need to blow the dust out of it and shake it a few times, but it might still work."

A smirk formed on Scarlet's lips. "Compasses don't work that way, dumbass."

"Hey, I'm just trying to make an analogy, okay?"

"Sure, whatever."

His mood suddenly lighter, Fox instructed her, "We're trying to draw up a plan, so if you could come to my base as soon as possible, that would be great. Say, would you happen to know of a way for us to get clearance from the Eladardian government to travel as mercenaries?"

Scarlet grinned. "As a matter of fact, I might. I'll discuss it at the meeting."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After halfheartedly finishing the snowball fight that he promised Sheila, Hartmann wiped the wet snow off his muzzle and trudged through the ankle-deep powder that coated the ground. Sheila stood twenty feet away from him, close to a row of small, local stores built out of logs taken from the nearest Fichinan forest.

As irritating as he found some of Sheila's antics, his suppressed softer side found the copper husky adorable and alluring in a way that he had difficulty describing.

" _I'm actually a little disappointed that I'm not going to see her again."_

He approached Sheila, the melancholic look on his face apparent to her. In the blink of an eye, her bubbly demeanor changed to match his. Her ears drooped, and she lowered her head. She knew what was coming.

"It was nice meeting you, Sheila," said Hartmann, using the flattest tone of voice that he possessed. "Try to be more careful out there next time, okay?"

The husky looked downwards at the snow covering her boots, then back up at Hartmann. "Do you really have to go?"

Hartmann replied with a stoic nod.

"C…Can you take me with you, then?"

He had not expected that response. Nonetheless, his duty-oriented autopilot took over and prompted him to respond. "I'm sorry, but no."

Sheila clenched her fists and looked at the buildings nearby. Her eyes darted between each of the structures with a hint of desperation. "Please? I don't belong here. It's boring. There's nothing to do other than go on endless patrols and try to fish on the frozen lake—and I'm bad at ice fishing." She pointed at the distant horizon. "Look—I almost died out there, and no one here cares."

Hartmann raised a hand to his muzzle and grumbled to himself.

"I want to actually do things, like the awesome secret agent stuff you and your Pokéfriend get to do!"

"Sheila, it's not that simple…"

"I know it's not!" Sheila interrupted. "Can you teach me?"

A low sigh emanated from the back of Hartmann's throat. "Look, I'm ex-SLATE Team 8.⁷ Lucas was trained by the greatest martial arts master of the last century, and he can read minds. You wouldn't last two minutes in some of the training sessions that I had to go through when I was a cadet. Being a 'secret agent' isn't very fun, either. It's a lot of logistical work that also involves constantly trying to avoid being murdered by any number of people who don't like what you're doing. The only time it's fun is when the job is over."

Sheila pouted in silence. She looked at the ground again, but this time, she did not look up. Almost too quietly to be heard over the persistent snow and wind, she murmured, "I love you. Please don't leave me here."

Hartmann stared at Sheila in stunned silence. His heart melted in the blink of an eye, and he felt as if he would turn into a puddle on the ground. She looked cute before, but seeing the sad version of her took a metaphorical jackhammer to the concrete layer surrounding his feelings.

" _What am I doing?"_ he yelled at himself. However, his own self lacked the time to respond, as he blurted out, "Okay—you can come with me."

Sheila's body language made a hard shift back to its normal upbeat self. She walked towards him, gratitude in her eyes. Without asking, she threw her arms around Hartmann's chest and said, "Thank you. We're going to have so much fun!"

While the copper husky hugged him, Hartmann stared at the snowy horizon as a feeling of dread crept up on him.

" _What have I done?"_

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Originally, Party Crashing was Arc VI, not Arc V. For the sake of the plotline, things got shifted around.

2 Netflix. Did you really need that explained?

3 Oh, there goes gravity, oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad but he won't give up that easy, no…ahem. Excuse me.

4 This is a nod to the U.S. National Security Agency, better known as the NSA or the "No Such Agency." Also, if you were paying attention earlier, Hartmann and Lucas's mission to Fichina was ordered by the DIS.

5 Poodle is Google for furries. IIRC, this cringey spoof was initially created by Sheppard_SD.

6 Portmanteau of Facebook and Myspace.

7 Analogous to U.S. Navy SEAL Team 6, SLATE stands for Sea Land and Air Tactical Enforcement.


	20. Party Prep

**Arc V: Party Crashing**

 _Part 2: Party Prep  
_

 _Chapter 19_

Several hours later, Fox and his team re-congregated in the "war room" inside Fox's base. This time, Scarlet joined the group. The red vixen sat next to Fox, with James to her left. Something about being sandwiched between the two bestowed her with a sense of contentment that put her more at ease than normal. Apart from her addition, everyone occupied the same seats as they had in the previous day's meeting, including Rena in the chair that was supposedly reserved for Fox.

However, Fox and the team sat waiting for Krystal to arrive and enter the room. As the minutes ticked by and the rest of the team waited in frustrated silence, Fox glanced at his watch.

Five minutes late.

"What are we waiting for, again?" asked Scarlet, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat.

"We're waiting for Krystal," Fox replied. "I don't know what the deal is. She hasn't left the base since we got back from Fortuna, so there's no reason for her to keep us waiting."

Scarlet looked at Fox with shifty eyes. "I thought you knew better than to trust her."

"If she doesn't walk through that door in about a minute, I'm going to get her myself."

To pass the time, Katt addressed Scarlet from across the table. "Hey, Scarlet, what happened to your normal clothes?"

Scarlet sighed, glancing at her new "normal" clothes, which now included a silver heart necklace that dangled just above the gap between her breasts. "I decided to make some lifestyle changes. I want people to look at me for who I am, not for what I look like."

"Aw crap," James mumbled to himself, although Scarlet heard it.

To distract from James's comment, Scarlet added, "I'm getting rid of my catsuits, so if you want them, you can have them."

"Hmm…" Katt raised her hand to her muzzle and scratched her chin. "I think I could use a few, assuming they'll fit."

"Sweet," replied Scarlet. "I'll probably keep a handful for private use because they're so comfortable, but for the most part, you can have at them."

The discussion of Scarlet's clothing roused Miyu's attention. "Hey, I might be interested too. I'll probably never use them, but I'm not going to pass up on free clothes."

Scarlet giggled internally. "Wow, and I thought it was going to be hard to get rid of those things."

"Are you supposed to wear underwear with them?" asked Miyu.

"You can," Scarlet shrugged. "I usually do, but you don't have to. They have built-in padding."

At this point in the conversation, Fox groaned and looked at all three women in turn. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"But I was enjoying it," James grumbled, all while subtly reaching under the table, pulling up the hem of Scarlet's shirt, and stroking her stomach. Startlingly, Scarlet did not reject his touch and instead reacted by running her fingers through the older fox's tail. However, the instant Fox glanced to his left, the two froze and withdrew their hands from each other.

"Okayyyyy…" Fox trailed off. As more time elapsed, the air inside the room became even more tense and awkward. Rena took the opportunity to play with her tablet, while Miyu and Fay chatted with each other. After half a minute, however, the door at the front of the room opened. Everyone at the table fell silent.

Each of them recognized the newcomer as Krystal, but just barely. For starters, she wore a black and purple bodysuit, which while alluring, seemed designed with functionality in mind. It featured a bevy of pockets, clips and holsters, all of which were empty at the moment. However, what attracted the team's attention the most was the black mask covering her face, muzzle, and hair to the point where no fur was visible. A pair of dark goggles designed to look like one cohesive strip blocked her eyes from view, and upon further examination, a black fabric garment covered her tail. In addition, black strands reminiscent of hair hung from the back of her mask.

For a moment, silence hung over the room.

Rena shattered it. "Hey, the sci-fi channel called. They want their stereotypical alien edgelord back."

"Krystal" glared at Rena, but of course, no one could perceive her expression through her goggles. With a muffled yet husky voice, she snapped, "Shut your whore mouth."

A collective gasp arose from the table, and all eyes turned to Rena. For a moment, the yellow vixen frowned and tapped her claws on the table in front of her. Each and every person at the table expected the worst: for her to launch into a flying tackle, to pull a knife, or to put Krystal in a chokehold. However, none of this happened. Instead, she lost her composure and burst into a laugh, spewing saliva all over her tablet screen. "Oh fark, that is too great."

Fox breathed a tense sigh of relief as he looked towards his strangely-attired acquaintance. "Krystal, what's going on here?"

"I'm getting used to my alter ego, Kursed."

Rena giggled again. This time, Fay and Miyu joined her. On the opposite side of the table, Katt snickered, while Scarlet rolled her eyes. Sharing the same sentiment as the others, Fox crossed his arms and asked, "Really? Why?"

"Simple," replied Kursed, "I'm in danger every time I go out in public. I need a way to keep my identity secret."

"You're going to stick out like a sore thumb, though," Fox observed.

Kursed pointed to Rena. "And she doesn't?"

Fox sighed. "Point made. I just can't picture you walking around like that on your way to buy ice cream or something."

Katt lifted an eyebrow. "Why ice cream?"

"Because I like ice cream, okay?" Fox retorted. "I would really like some right now."

The room went silent for a moment, allowing Kursed to drop into the chair next to Fox. Even though he knew who was behind the mask, her attire put him on edge. To distract from this, he began the meeting proper. "Now that we've finally got everyone here…"

"Sorry, the mask got stuck," Kursed interrupted.

Unimpeded, Fox continued, "...Let's come up with an official plan to infiltrate the Red Group's main complex. We've already settled on the idea idea of catering a COO's retirement party, and Scarlet has agreed to take the role of exotic entertainer. With her connections in Eladard, it shouldn't be too hard for her to land the gig. There is one condition she made, though."

The others stared at Fox, waiting for him to respond. However, he punted the question to Scarlet and nudged her.

"I want someone to perform with me," she explained, her voice darker and more displeased than normal.

A solid ten seconds passed with no response.

"Anyone?" Fox asked, trying not to sound desperate. "Katt, maybe?"

"Ew, no," the pink feline revolted, holding out an arm and waving her hand back and forth as if to block the idea from reaching her. "I'm not going to get naked for some stuffy office suits. Yuck."

Fox bit his lip. "Uh, Miyu?"

"Not gonna happen," Miyu declared.

"Fay?"

The white spaniel shot a stunned glance in Fox's direction. "What? No way!"

Sighing, Fox lowered his head and glanced at Scarlet with his peripheral vision. "Scarlet, is there a way that you can…"

A voice directly to his right spoke up. "Ugh. I'll do it."

Fox turned his head in the direction of the voice. "Krystal?"

"Look, I don't want to do this any more than Her Redness does, but if this is the best way to get those blueprints, I'm willing to do it.¹"

Katt rested her head on her hand and leaned forward. "Not trying to talk you out of it, but aren't you kind of on East Fortuna's "most wanted" list?"

Kursed sighed. "Yes. I suppose that is a problem."

"You don't say," said Miyu, rolling her eyes.

Glancing at the blue vixen, Scarlet asked, "Why don't you just dye your fur? No one will recognize you if you do that."

"I'm allergic," Kursed replied with a deadpan voice.

"So I am," Scarlet shot back. "They make hypo-allergenic fur dye for that. It's more expensive and doesn't last very long, but when you need blue fur for a photoshoot and repeatedly sneezing on camera doesn't cut it, it's the only option."

Fox's eyes widened. "Wait—I had an idea. Scarlet, why don't you just dye your fur blue to match Krystal's? That way, everyone will think you're _both_ wearing dye."

The table went silent for a moment. Then, Scarlet spoke. "You know, I could get behind that. I think I'd feel better about performing that way, too.²"

Fox breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, ladies. I hate to do that do you, but as Krystal said…"

"Kursed," Kursed butted in.

"…As Kursed said, we need to be willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we get those blueprints."Collecting his thoughts, he added, "Also, Scarlet told me that she knows someone who can get us a permit to travel to Eladard as a mercenary unit, which means we'll get to bring our own plane and weapons."

"Awesome," said Miyu. "Just curious, but are Fay and I going to be part of this?"

Fox stared pensively at the back wall. "One of you probably will. Look—someone has to stay here and manage the base and the books. Don't take it too personally."

"Works for me," Fay replied, "I just set up a date with an air force captain, and I'd be really bummed if I had to miss it." She sighed and rested a hand under her chin. "Ah, I love men in uniform."

Fox glared at Fay. "Ahem, focus. The next step in this plan is making sure we get hired on for this party. A few of us can get in with our catering business, and two of us might be able to pass as Scarlet and 'Kursed's' 'handlers'. Apart from you two," he glanced at the two ladies, "I don't think more than four of us are going to be getting into that building. It'll raise too many red flags. Slippy!"

In a blur, Slippy—who had been asleep the entire meeting thanks to a night of binging League of Warscape³ to bring his weapons crafting level up to 98—sat bolt upright and shook his head to jolt himself into alertness. "Whoa! What did I do this time?"

Fox had no response except to rest his head on his hand and smirk. "Slippy, I'm going to need your expertise to help get us into the main part of the Red Group facility. Since this job involves computer work, it's a safe bet that we'll need your help."

"Sounds good, Fox," Slippy replied before slamming his head down on the table and going back to sleep.

Fox rolled his eyes and looked towards Rena, who stared at the sleeping frog with a malicious expression. "Rena, I could use your help, too. You might want to hang back and provide remote support, though."

"Why?" the yellow vixen demanded.

"Because there's no way you're getting into that building with your yellow fur. Last time I checked, that's the mark of Eladard's most infamous street gang."

The realization dawned on Rena. "Oh fark.⁴ You're right."

"Uh, couldn't you just _not_ dye your fur?" asked Katt.

Rena stared at the feline with an expression so cold and so malicious that it chilled her to the bone. "Never! Why don't you tell me how you'd feel if you were cursed with the natural fur color of Faded Shit?"

Katt's expression became stoic in the blink of an eye. "Ouch, that hurt.⁵ But hey—couldn't you dye it red instead?"

Silence consumed the yellow vixen. She tapped her muzzle for a moment before responding. "Yeah, but I don't want to."

Resuming command of the meeting, Fox said, "It's established—Rena will help with offsite support during the operation. Katt and Miyu—you two can help with the catering at the party. It's not a hard job, at least I think." Pausing the conversation, he looked to his left, at Scarlet. The red vixen leaned back in her chair and exhaled while locking eyes with him. "Scarlet, about this friend of yours who can get us into Eladard with a mercenary clearance—how likely is he to give the go-ahead on this? Who is he, anyway?"

"His name's Felix, and I'd say 'very likely,'" Scarlet answered. "He's the guy who provides all my weapons. I've done some favors for him in the past that he hasn't paid me back for. He owes me one, and he knows it."

"Excellent. If he can really do that for his for us, call him up and let me know if it's going to work."

"Sure thing," Scarlet replied.

Fox nodded in approval and sat up in his chair. He steepled his fingers on the table, then addressed the group. "All right—thanks for sitting through this, team. We've got somewhat of a plan now. We just need to execute it. Just so we know what everyone needs to do, I'll go over the assignments. Rena—you work on setting up the website for our catering company. Scarlet—call Felix and get clearance for us, then find a way to get booked for that party.

Scarlet replied with a thumbs up.

"Uh, Senpai," said Rena, "I've got one problem with the website. I'm good at coding, but I don't know how to do web design."

"That is a problem," Fox muttered. "Is anyone here good at web design?"

Crickets.

"All right then. I guess we'll need to bring someone in to help with the website."

James suddenly spoke up. "Hey, son, Mystic is a graphic designer. I'm sure she'd be happy to design that website for you."

Fox cringed.

"Who's Mystic?" asked Miyu.

"My dad's girlfriend," Fox replied through gritted teeth with his head lowered. _"But then again, she apparently has the skills we need right now, and we're not going to be getting anywhere by me being petty."_ He sighed, then sat up and looked at his father. "Okay, Dad—ask if she'd be up for it."

James nodded.

"All right, then," said Fox, "Looks like we're in business. I'll keep you all updated as new developments occur."

With the meeting adjourned, each member of Fox's team stood up and exited the room one by one until only Fox himself remained…along with Slippy, who was still asleep at the table. Rolling his eyes, Fox turned off the already-dim lights inside the conference room and stepped into the hallway outside.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

A day passed. While Scarlet began putting feelers out for a way to book her and Krystal as the entertainment for the upcoming Red Group office party and while Rena researched potential weaknesses in the Eladardian company's infrastructure, Fox reluctantly admitted his father's girlfriend Mystic into his base. A youthful vixen just barely out of college, she carried herself with a reserved, shy air that reflected itself on her delicate, tapered white muzzle. As a general rule of thumb, she never seemed to wear clothing that revealed any significant amount of fur, no matter how warm the weather became. Speaking of her fur, it passed as Mystic's most interesting external trait. A lush pelt of dark magenta, it stood out from the normal swath of canine colors like a neon green searchlight in a midnight alley. Given her quiet persona, it seemed odd for her to have such a fur color.

Inside Fox's dimly-lit conference room, currently occupied only by her and the base's owner, Mystic looked around and asked, "Are you sure this is legal?"

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?" Fox replied. "We are going to be doing some catering soon, so we might as well have a professional website while we're at it."

"No—I was talking about the legality of writing fake five-star reviews for your website. I don't feel comfortable with this."

Fox crossed his arms to give the impression or surety and confidence, when in actuality, he possessed neither. "Well, you don't have to do it if you don't want, but I'll pay you more if you write the reviews. Otherwise, I or one of my teammates will have to do it. I think you're better with words anyway. What you've done so far is nice."

Mystic blushed. "Aw, thanks, Fox. You really take after your father, you know."

 _"I don't know whether to thank her or be horrified,"_ Fox thought to himself.

As if she had the ability to read his mind, Mystic zeroed in on Fox's green eyes and stared at him with a wounded expression. "I'm sorry… Did that offend you?"

"No, no, no," Fox waved her off. "It's just—there are a few things about my dad that I don't want to be part of.

"Like what?"

Suddenly, Fox realized that he needed to tread carefully or risk severing the twisted thread between him, his father, and his father's youthful significant other. "Well, no offense to him, but he can be kind of a perv and a goofball sometimes. Nothing against him—it's just that it's kind of…embarrassing."

"I think it's cute," Mystic replied, a smile on her face. "He doesn't act his age, and I like that. You know, if you told me a year ago that I'd be dating someone who's about to turn fifty, I would have puked on the spot. More proof that you can't judge a book by its cover."

"Uh, yeah. Agreed," Fox mumbled.

Sensing an air of disapproval from Fox, Mystic placed her hands on her hips and asked him, "What's wrong, Fox? Is there something you don't like about me? Are you creeped out that I'm younger than you and thinking about marrying your dad? Just tell me—be brutally honest here."

"Please, don't flip out," Fox replied. "It _does_ creep me out. To be perfectly honest, I think you might be trying to play my dad for his money. He's not the richest guy out there, but he does have money; and you'll get most of it at some point if you marry him."

"It's just not true, though," Mystic implored him. "Everyone else I've dated pushed me away because they didn't like my body, or because I have an incurable medical problem, or because I don't have anything that most people want. You dad loves me for who I am, and that's why I love him back. He's given me all the things that everyone else kept from me."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with your body? You look good to me."

In response, Mystic pulled the hem of her white, long-sleeved turtleneck up to the top of her stomach, revealing three gruesome, two-foot-long scars that looked deep enough to penetrate through every layer of her skin. As if that had not been enough, two bare patches of open skin punctuated her white abdominal fur. Fox stared agape at the vixen's horrifying wounds, then brought his hand to his mouth and gasped, "Oh…I'm so sorry for whatever happened to you."

Mystic pulled her shirt down again and frowned. "It's okay. I can't do anything about it. I'm just glad I finally found someone who can look past my scars."

At a loss for words, Fox looked away from Mystic and tried to make it seem like he was involved in a set of mental exercises that required intense focus. Of course, this failed; but it did not prevent him from trying. After ten seconds of silence, Mystic resumed typing at her computer, continuing to compose reviews for the catering website.

The awkwardness became too much to bear. "Hey, Mystic—I'm going to step out for a few minutes to check on something. I'll be back, okay?"

Mystic nodded while keeping her eyes focused on her laptop screen.⁶

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Escaping the awkward situation in the conference room, Fox darted into the main hallway and began walking towards his base's workshop, which had not seen much use since the demise of his original team. However, with Rena back in the fold and Slippy a full-time team member, reasons had arisen to brush the literal cobwebs off the walls. As Fox approached the workshop, a pattern of yellow stripes crossed over the doorway, warning outsiders of the dangerous equipment inside. Near the room was the team's indoor shooting range, although—thankfully for Fox's ears—no one occupied it at the moment.

Expecting at least one member of his "nerd squad" to be inside, Fox pushed open the workshop door and stepped into the room, which resembled a garage akin to the kind that auto racing teams used. Near the left wall, Rena sat in a nondescript metal chair behind a wall-mounted desk, tinkering with something in front of her. An ear-rending mix of cheesy pop and soul-crushing metal emanated from a pair of speakers positioned on both edges of the desk.⁷ The music created such an enormous musical conflict of interests that Fox took a step back in a vain attempt at escaping from it.

Rena noticed the effect of her music and pressed a button on the speaker pair's controller, silencing the music. She waved for Fox to come closer, then pointed to the linoleum-topped desk in front of her. She scooted her chair to the side, revealing the object on the desk—a yellow and pink Frisbee-like device. As Fox stepped closer to it, his eyes narrowed.

"What is that…thing?"

Rena held out both hands towards the device and replied, "Senpai, meet Zippy." She reached for the desk and grabbed a professional-grade remote control unit. Seconds later, the device on the table fired up and lifted into the air. Upon closer examination, Fox recognized it as a quad-rotor drone, except that the frame had been shrouded in lightweight metal that mostly hid the utilitarian rotor design and gave it a bulbous, disk-like shape.

Matching the spirit of its user, the front of the machine bore a cheesy Kawaii face, complete with beady eyes and cartoony teeth that looked like happy counterparts of the shark faces that the Cornerian Army painted on their bombers during his father's days in the military. Two small, insect-like manipulator arms jutted out from the drone's sides.

Fox crossed his arms while Rena guided the drone around the warehouse. To his surprise, the rotors made little noise. He figured that if the industrial air conditioning in the base had been turned on, the drone could sneak up on him if Rena wanted it to.

While Rena continued piloting the drone, Fox asked, "What's the point of this Zippy thing?"

"You want me running remote support for the mission, right? With Zippy, I can be with you digitally while staying offsite. It's the best of both worlds! This little guy's got a camera on his front and back, and I can open doors and stuff with his arms. I even tried typing with them, and it works."

"I'm guessing you need more than just that remote to do that, though," Fox assumed.

Keeping her eyes on Zippy instead of Fox, she answered, "Yeah. I've got the full control suite on my laptop. Zippy has a built-in long range transmitter linked to the Horizon phone service, so he can go just about anywhere in the world with me in control."

"He?"

"Yes, Zippy is a 'he,'" Rena grumbled. "Have some respect for the little guy. He's not all there in the head."

Fox balked. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"Well," the yellow vixen explained, "I did include an automatic mode, but it's pretty primitive—caveman level, actually. Zippy can't even fly straight in automatic mode. He does take commands, though. You have to say them exactly the right way and in the right tone of voice, because if you don't, he won't recognize it."

"Please, just stick with manual mode," Fox replied, keeping his arms crossed.

"I don't see why I'd need to switch over to auto." She re-activated manual mode and guided Zippy back to the desk, where she landed the drone and powered it off. "That's all I wanted to show you. You can go back to being bored again."

"Yeah…I'll do that. Actually, I had one more question."

Rena turned towards Fox and adopted a questioning posture.

"Once we're in the building, how exactly are we going to breach the Red Group's database? That thing's got to be heavily encrypted. There's no way we'll be able to walk up to it and press "Hack."

Rena snickered. "Actually, it _will_ be that easy."

Fox crossed his arms. "Please tell me how that's possible."

Shaking her head while retaining her smirk, the yellow vixen wagged a finger at Fox. "All in due time, Senpai. You will see." As Fox rolled his eyes and turned towards the exit door, Rena slipped a USB drive out of her pocket and stroked it while whispering, _"My precious.⁸"_

Scribbled onto a thin piece of masking tape affixed to the black thumb drive's main surface were the words "Direwolf Beta."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Leaving Rena to fondle her USB drive, Fox stepped out of the workshop and navigated back to the conference room, having spent a grand total of five minutes with his eccentric yellow acquaintance. Upon reaching the conference room door, he opened it to find Mystic tapping at her computer as she had been when he left her. "Making any progress?" he asked.

Mystic nodded. "I'm almost done here. You'll have a working website up in a few minutes. There's just one problem, though: since this is a catering company, don't you want some pictures to back that up?"

Fox stroked his muzzle with his right hand and considered her suggestion. "Yeah, I really do want some pictures. Thing is, we haven't actually done any catering yet. Also, it might not be the best idea to have me and my team on the website."

"Why not?" asked Mystic, looking as confused as Fox would have expected her to.

"I don't want to talk about it. How about this—you find some stock pictures of random people and photoshop them into wearing catering outfits and standing in front of those silver food warmers. You can do that, right?"

"That is so wrong, but I can," Mystic admitted. "I'll have to do that at home, though. Not much of a point in me sitting around in here for hours when I can just send you the pictures when I'm done. When do you need them?"

"ASAP," Fox replied. "We're really trying to get this catering thing up and running."

Mystic responded with a nervous head nod. "Okay then. I might be able to have them ready tomorrow. I can put them up on the website for you if you'd like."

"Perfect. Thanks for doing all this stuff, by the way. It really helps."

"Sure—no problem," Mystic replied with a faint smile.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

In the arctic wastes of Fichina, a team of West Fortunan⁹ soldiers jogged through the high-piled snow. Two helicopters circled the remains of the ruined northern fortress, their searchlights illuminating the ground surrounding the fallen structure. Chunks of concrete and metal lay scattered around an area nearly a quarter mile in diameter. While his fireteam squadmates sifted through the rubble, a black and white feline soldier moved towards what he felt would have been the core of the building had it still been standing. Computer components and splintered particleboard coated a mostly intact floor surface, which a thin layer of snow alighted on.

Yet, he focused on none of those details. In the back corner of what would have been the fortress's main lower level room, an eight-foot-tall block of steel and concrete remained in situ. The soldier took note of the double metal doors attached to the front of the block. Something prompted him to approach it. Placing his hand on the latch on the right side door, he turned it. The door opened with an agonizing creak. The soldier snatched his flashlight and turned it on.

" _What the…?"_

Inside, a black-cloaked figure lay on the floor, curled up into a ball. It made no movements; and at first, the feline did not even see it breathe. His eyes judged the mystery individual to be dead, but he knew his platoon commander would have preferred him to turn over every stone before admitting defeat. After all, the sudden destruction of a previously-unknown base above the Arctic Circle threw up numerous red flags to West Fortunan leadership, considering that they had political jurisdiction over the frontier state of Fichina.

Collecting himself, the soldier reached down and touched the black figure. It was warm. He moved to stand back up and alert his squadmates to his discovery, but before he had the chance to speak, the figure stirred. With a long, tired grumble, it sat up and opened its piercing red eyes.

Suddenly on alert, the feline soldier put a hand on his handgun and demanded, "Identify yourself."

The mystery individual said nothing. As the seconds passed, the soldier recognized him as some sort of jackal with mixed black and blue fur even though his black clothes and his hood obscured much of his body.

"I said, identify yourself!"

The jackal remained defiant. "No one you would know."

"Okay, wise-ass—stop yanking my chain and identify yourself."

Silence.

Infuriated, the feline turned around a placed a hand on the side of his mouth. "Commander! I found something here!"

The two stood in silence while the sound of approaching footsteps crunched through the snow. Thanks to the complete lack of details unearthed up to this point, the entire squad headed towards the first soldier's location. A brief minute later, the group's commander—a short, rusty-furred coywolf with a black ushanka hat and a slender, angular muzzle walked up to the feline soldier and glared at the black canine. All the while, the snowstorm blanketing the region swirled around them.

The commander locked eyes with the mystery individual, then spoke with a thick accent belonging to the northernmost region of West Fortuna. "Who are you?"

"I might not be authorized to tell you that. Who are _you?"_ the jackal replied.

The coywolf curled her lip. "I am Lt. Commander Volkchelovek¹⁰ of West Fortuna army. I suggest you talk. Otherwise I shoot. I do not like wasted time."

"West Fortuna, huh? In that case, I'm Lucas del Rio¹¹—freelance mercenary."

Commander Volkchelovek observed Lucas more closely. "You don't even have weapons. What kind of mercenary is that?"

"I don't need them."

The coywolf shook her head and breathed out a large cloud of vapor. "Зто нелепо,"

Lucas sat in silence.

Still sizing up the strange jackal, Volkchelovek put her hands on her hips and asked, "What happened here?"

"Someone blew this place up."

The commander stamped her foot, sending some snow flying. "Of course someone blew it up. More specific, пожалуйста."

After a moment of deliberation, Lucas answered, "All I know is what they looked like, and that one of them was named Agatha. All of their gear was blank. Sorry—I don't know much more here than you do."

Volkchelovek responded with a grim nod. "I see. Is there anyone else here?"

Lucas shook his head.

"Good. We will be going soon. Come with us if you want to live. We talk more in helicopter."

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Originally, I planned to have Katt be the one accompanying Scarlet, but a conversation I had with Jack64 (u/9179607/Jack64) gave me the idea to have Krystal do it instead. The fanservice was impossible to resist.

2 I wanted to elaborate on this a bit more, I but didn't feel like tacking this onto that paragraph would be a good fit. Basically, Scarlet likes the idea of wearing blue dye because it more or less helps her feel "less like her" and would take away some of the shame of entertaining the party.

3 It's a three-way portmanteau of League of Legends, World of Warcraft, and Runescape.

4 Just in case you were wondering, the euphemism "fark" is a combination of "fart" and "fuck." The word got thrown around so much in the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ that is has actually become part of my own vocabulary.

5 I'm surmising that Katt's natural fur color is the one seen in _Command_.

6 In the original _Sierra Foxtrot,_ Mystic was a spy for East Fortuna, tasked with killing Fox by cozying up to James and infiltrating Fox's inner circle. That is not the case here. She's just James's girlfriend.

7 The form of music I was envisioning here was Babymetal.

8 An obvious reference to _The Lord of the Rings'_ Gollum.

9 These are the "good guys," not _East_ Fortuna.

10 This is Irena Volkchelovek, seen previously in _The Oasis_ , _The Iridium Chronicle_ , and _Nexus Three._

11 Could it be any more obvious what he is?


	21. Seeing Blue

**Arc V: Party Crashing**

 _Part 3: Seeing Blue_

 _Chapter 20_

In his command room atop his secret base's main tower, Rafa reclined in his well-worn office chair. He glanced over his shoulder through the massive observation window on the back wall just in time to see the final rays of the sun before it vanished below the horizon. For the time being, he was alone in the room. He preferred it that way. With so much on his mind, he needed a bit of time to think. Despite the previous track record of his mercenary action duo, the sheer lack of correspondence from Fyvve and Doggo put him on edge. Three days had passed since they had left for Eladard, and as of yet, neither of them had made contact. Rafa had little doubt that they were still alive—he simply suspected that they had made zero progress on accessing Krystal's Macbeth-based bank account or in raiding her apartment.

" _She probably cleared that place out the instant she turned on us. I don't know how she could have gotten there so quickly without help, though. Maybe there_ was _help involved. Hmm…"_

A moment later, Rafa's phone rang. He reached into his pocket and withdrew it with neither alarmed concern nor disinterested malaise. "Hello?"

" _Boss, it's Doggo."_

Rafa breathed a sigh of relief, albeit a brief one. "Please tell me you cracked her bank account."

" _Yes, I did that,"_ replied the action hacker. _"However…"_

" _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it…"_ Rafa thought to himself, gripping the side of his chair while waiting for the shiba inu to finish explaining himself.

He said it. _"The balance was C0.00. Completely empty."_

Rafa's previously simmering anger blossomed into a towering rage in a split second. "Damn that woman!"

" _There's…uh…something else,"_ Doggo continued, his suave, low voice becoming uncharacteristically nervous.

The East Fortunan leader bit his lip and tried to reply with a level voice. "What?"

" _When Fyvve and I went to raid the apartment you told us to look into, we ran into the target."_

"…And I assume that since this is the first time you've called me since you left for Eladard, you let her escape. How the _hell_ did you let that happen?" Rafa demanded, clutching his phone with such force that he feared it would crumple in his hand.

" _She was with a man,"_ Doggo sheepishly replied. _"He held us off while she got away."_

In a cartoon setting, literal smoke would have begun rising out of Rafa's nostrils at this point. "What did this 'man' look like?"

" _A red fox, around 5'8", medium build, orange fur, wore a scarf and a jacket."_

Breathing in furious, heavy gasps, Rafa closed his eyes and demanded, "Please do not tell me that he got away. Do not tell me that he got away. Do not tell me that he got..."

" _He got away."_

"GAH! Fuck you, Fox!" Rafa screamed, hurling his phone at the ground with such force that it bounced off the tile floor and sent glass shards flying. The phone eventually clattered to a stop in the back corner of the room with the call still live. Of course, Doggo hung up seconds later. With the room silent and his own tirade echoing in his ears, Rafa held his head in his hands and wracked his brain for a way out of the mess he now found himself in.

After a minute of allowing his rage to subside enough for clear thinking to return, he rolled his chair over to the massive control suite that dominated the command room's right wall. He reached out and pressed a green phone icon. A second later, a military officer's voice echoed through a small intercom built into the control panel. _"Extension, please."_

"502."¹

" _Transferring now. Please hold."_

Seconds ticked by with no sound apart from communications static. In the time frame before Doggo's inopportune phone call, Rafa would have enjoyed the silence.² Now, though, he reviled it. He needed answers. He needed ideas. But most of all, he needed results.

" _I know you're busy, amigo. Please pick up."_

To his relief, his wish was granted. A deep, confident yet intellectual voice reached his ears, providing him with an immediate sense of relief. _"Good evening, Commander. What is it?"_

"Desmond, we've got a problem—a big problem."

" _Oh yeah?"_

"'Oh yeah' doesn't even begin to describe it. We just lost our reserve funds. We're not getting any more money unless Macbeth approves it—and they're going to be under a lot of pressure not to."

Desmond went silent. _"Not good."_

Trying to keep his composure, Rafa pleaded, "Desmond, I need a favor from you."

" _Sure. What is it?"_

"I need you to get in touch with the Red Group's administration and arrange pickup for the Landmaster prototype that they just finished. We also need copies of the blueprints for the tank and for the Arwing. Both weapons will be delivered to this base in just a few weeks' time, but we might not have the luxury of sitting around and waiting for them."

" _Do you think someone knows about the weapons?"_

Rafa nodded. "I have a suspicion that a certain blue bitch is leaking info to someone I used to know."

" _She's really gone rogue?"_

Quivering with rage, Rafa responded, "We don't need her, mi amigo. She was holding us back. With her gone, the gloves are coming off. No holds barred. We're going to win this war, Desmond. I don't care what it takes. First things first, though: set up the Landmaster pickup and go to Eladard. We might be short on money, but if we move quickly, it won't matter."

" _Sounds good, Commander. I'll get right on it."_

Sighing, Rafa ended his call with Desmond by pressing a red button on the massive control console in front of him. He stood up and walked towards his phone, nestled in the back corner of the room. Reaching down and dusting it off, he unlocked it and determined that it would still function. Then, he scrolled through a list of contacts, finally alighting on one near the end of the list.

He sighed again, then pressed 'call.' The holding tone lasted longer than he hoped it would, suggesting that his contact did not exactly appreciate being called. Eventually, however, the contact picked up and answered with a disgruntled voice.

" _Hello—what do you want this time?"_

"Listen, Wolf," Rafa replied. "I've got a job opportunity for you."

" _Go on."_

"I've got an extremely valuable prototype tank that I need delivered to me in East Fortuna. Right now, it's in the Red Group's factory in Eladard. I'm sending my right hand man to extract the tank personally, but I'm all but convinced that Fox and his merry band of misfit twats are going to try to crash the party.³ So, what I need you to do is find a way to distract Fox so that my man can get away with the tank."

" _Am I allowed to kill Fox?"_

Rafa responded with an unnerving amount of jubilation in his voice. "Of course! I'm sure we'd both be much happier if you would do that."

" _Great,"_ replied Wolf, _"I'm still recovering from my last encounter with him, but I should be good to go. When do you need me in Eladard?"_

Rafa stepped back and looked out the window, watching as the sunlight vanished completely and plunged his command base into darkness. "I don't know yet. I'll keep you updated."

" _Sounds good."_

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Ten days passed, with the majority of Foxfire Enterprises' time being spent preparing for their rapidly-approaching mission. Thanks to Rena's work spamming Red Group employees' social media pages with ads for their new catering company and its immaculate website that boasted over forty near-flawless reviews, the team—via Fay's irresistable interpersonal skills—had managed to land the gig as the catering providers for the Red Group's office party.

Meanwhile, Scarlet and Krystal prepared for the mission by…other means. Being out of practice, Scarlet spent most of her time going over the suggestive dance routines that she had pushed aside for nearly a decade, in addition to teaching them to Krystal. To do this, Scarlet set up a pole in the base's exercise room—a move that Fox frowned upon, but grudgingly approved under the condition that she would take it down after the mission had ended.

With the team's catering uniforms assembled, fake Red Group ID tags printed, Slippy's catering recipes perfected, accommodations scheduled, and Rena's drone tested, the group convened at the Cornerian International Airport near the private airline checkpoint.

As usual, Fox arrived before most of the others, apart from Slippy, at least. The amphibian sat in one of the many plastic chairs in the waiting area, located in front of a large, tinted window that allowed a faint view of the dim, sun-tinged horizon and the Cornerian skyline that punctuated it. Rena sat next to him, wearing a small, black hoodie with cut-off sleeves that gave it the appearance of a hooded tank top. Dark purple gauntlets covered her wrists and forearms⁴, while below the waist, she wore a pair of dangerously small black shorts, thigh-high striped purple socks, and black combat boots. Her cutoff hoodie featured a large circular design with a giant 'P' in the center—the logo for the Eladard-based progressive metal band Peripherals.⁵ As she tended to do, she sat with her gaze to the nearest window while listening to music through her large white headphones.

Temporarily lowering her headphones and allowing the faint sound of death metal to leak out, she groggily mumbled, "Good morning, Senpai."

"Good morning to you," Fox replied, taking a nearby seat that faced the private airline checkpoint, currently vacant in the early hours of the morning. Noticing a growing awkward silence in the waiting area as Rena repositioned her headphones, Fox looked at Slippy out of the corner of his eye and said, "Thanks for getting here early and setting a good example for everyone else."

"Eh, it's what I do," Slippy replied with a cavalier hand wave. "So, let me get this straight before everyone else shows up—what exactly do you want me to do during the mission? Miyu and Katt are going to be doing the catering and Scarlet's going to entertain the guests with Krystal, so where does that leave me? Do you want me to get into the Red Group's main facility with you and Rena's drone, or do you want me to stay at the party? Please say 'stay at the party.'"

Fox rolled his eyes, knowing full well why Slippy wished for him to say that. "Hey—if I had the choice, I'd rather stay at the party, too. I mean, damn—don't you dare tell either of them, but I might ask Katt to record their routine. We've got a job to do, though. Our fake IDs are only going to get us so far, so we'll need to find an alternate way to get into the more highly secured areas in the Red Group facility. That's why I need you to come with me. I wish I could have even more help, but everyone else is going to be tied up at the party."

"Well, at least with just us and the drone, it'll be easier to be stealthy," Slippy hinted.

"Sadly, Rena's yellow and pink drone paint scheme isn't very stealthy. It _is_ very quiet, though."

The conversation came to a halt as Miyu and Katt walked through the terminal doors and rounded the corner into the waiting room. "Good morning, people," Miyu called out.

"I want to go back to sleep," Katt moaned.

Fox replied in jest, "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time for that on the flight. You might not want to sleep then, though—we'll probably be getting off the plane at 6:00 PM—yesterday.⁶"

Her tired mind unable to contemplate the idiosyncrasies of time zone changes, Katt grumbled, "What the hell?"

"Hey, it doesn't make sense to me, either," Fox replied before he lowered his voice. "Hey, Katt—can you come over here?"

While Miyu took a seat next to Slippy, Katt shuffled over to Fox, who leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Can you do me a favor? When Scarlet and Krystal are doing their dance at the party, would you mind…"

"Mind _what?"_ a nearby voice called out.

Fox jolted back in his seat and looked up, only to see and Scarlet and Krystal standing at the lobby's entrance. The blue vixen wore her Kursed outfit, while Scarlet continued her streak of wearing normal clothing with a pair of black yoga pants and a dark blue athletic fit t-shirt.

"Aaa! Good morning, l…ladies!"

Scarlet giggled and nudged Kursed, whom Fox suspected had broken into a smile beneath her unfeeling mask.

Unfazed by the arrival of the two vixens, Katt asked Fox, "So, what did you want me to do, again?"

"Don't bother, Fox replied. "It wasn't anything important."

"Really? It didn't sound that way to me…"

"No, it doesn't matter," Fox insisted, before he changed the topic to prevent any further humiliation from his team's resident mind-reader. "Everyone, let's head to the plane!"

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After manning the pilot's seat for the entirety of the flight from Corneria to Eladard, Fox felt grateful not to be driving. As the sun dipped below the horizon—obscured by Eladard's innumerable high-rise buildings—he sat in the second row of seats belonging to the oversized cargo van assigned to pick him and his team up from the airport and transport them to their arranged quarters. Scarlet and Krystal sat to his right and left on the cloth-covered bench, while Slippy, Katt, and Miyu followed the shuttle in Foxfire Enterprises'™ dedicated cargo van. Rena managed to claim the shuttle's shotgun seat.

The shuttle's driver—an imposing bull mastiff wearing an immaculate black suit and a tie—seemed not to be one for conversation, judging from his complete lack of speech after helping Fox and his team into the van. His own intimidating presence dissuaded Fox from speaking to him to begin with, which left him with turning to Scarlet for answers to the questions he held about Eladard and Scarlet's friend, who had been responsible for giving them clearance to enter Eladard to begin with.

Whispering into the vixen's ear, he asked, "What can we expect from your friend Felix?"

At this, Scarlet let out a quiet sigh and explained, "I think we can expect a nice, secure place to stay. However, there's one thing I have to admit about him." She paused before whispering, "He's my ex. He was the last guy I dated."

Fox gave her an uncomfortable expression, but she silenced him with a hand wave and added, "Now hold on—we had a mutual breakup a year ago. We're on good terms. There won't be any drama."

"Got it," said Fox. "He must really like you if he's willing to go through this much trouble to get us into Eladard."

Scarlet nodded. "You'd better believe it. Don't take this to the bank, but if I ever got married, it would probably be to him."⁷

"Sounds reasonable. Tie the knot with the billionaire businessman, sleep around a few times, and then divorce him and take half his fortune, claiming 'irreconcilable differences.⁸'"

Scarlet's jaw dropped. In a stunned outburst, she slapped Fox on the cheek and snapped, "You asshole! What makes you think I'm that kind of woman?"

Fox tapped his chin and looked towards the van's roof. "Let me count the reasons."

"Jerk," Scarlet huffed. "Well, I'll have you know that I don't play that way."

Smiling internally while at the same time feeling sorry for pushing Scarlet's metaphorical buttons so strongly, he chose to change the subject and discuss another development that struck him as curious. Glancing from side to side at both Scarlet and Krystal—who had temporarily removed her mask—he asked, "You two seem like you've gotten a lot friendlier with each other. Is there something I missed?"

Without missing a beat, Scarlet replied, "Having to learn our team dance routine forced us to work together, and I got to know her better because of that. We got off on the wrong foot back in Katina, that's all. She's not so bad."

Krystal said nothing in response, but looked around Fox at her and smiled appreciatively.

Forgetting that Krystal would pick up on it, Fox thought, _"Those warm feelings are going to go out the window the instant they start trying to compete for me."_

He felt Krystal give him a quick nudge in his right side a split second later. At the same time, he felt a subtle mental prompting from her. _"We can talk about this later if you want."_

" _I would appreciate that,"_ Fox thought back.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

After meandering through the cramped, congested downtown streets for twenty minutes, the van's driver pulled the van onto a stone driveway largely obscured by a mass of ivy plants that covered a twenty-foot wall. The structure stood in stark contrast to the dark gray, metallic theme of the buildings that surrounded it. From a distance, it seemed like a random mass of plants amidst a modern city center, but when one moved closer, it started to look more like a residence—or more specifically, a manor.

The narrow stone driveway led to a pair of solid, heavy, wooden doors with a code box on the right side. The driver pulled up to said box and rolled down his right side window, pressing a series of buttons that caused the two doors ahead to swing open. Behind the doors, an opulent two story house stuck out from between swaths of small, manicured trees planted in gaps in the stone walkways that surrounded the house.

The house itself sported an ergonomic, modern design that eschewed a traditional sloped roof in favor of a flat-topped appearance, replete with corners that stuck out beyond the wall-sized windows that lined the right portion of the house's second floor. With the light on, Fox noticed an arrangement of expensive specialty furniture in the glass-walled room. As the van drove past the house, a slender vulpine figure walked into the room and observed the van through the glass wall.

Farther along the driveway, a second house came into view. It looked smaller than the first one, but not by a significant margin. It shared the same architectural style as the first one, with a wood-sided lower level that contained two garage doors and an upper level composed largely of glass. The distance between the two houses was bridged by a lush plant and flower garden that surrounded an outdoor swimming pool.

The shuttle came to a stop in front of the second building, and the driver beckoned for Fox, Scarlet, Krystal, and Rena to climb out. As soon as all four set foot on the stone driveway, Miyu brought the team's van to a halt behind Felix's shuttle. As the van's engine shut off, Fox's ears swiveled in the direction of the first house.

A quiet set of footsteps clapped down the driveway towards him; and seconds later, a thin vulpine appeared, wearing a professional-looking business suit and tie along with a pair of thin, rectangular glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. Fox turned to greet him, but Scarlet beat him to it and lunged towards the sharp-dressed vulpine.

"Hi, Felix!" she shouted, jogging towards him and giving him a gentle hug that elicited a blush from him.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, the vulpine took a step back and replied, "Hello to you too, Scarlet. It's been a long time since you were here." He looked at the rest of the group in front of him asked, "This is the rest of the team, right?"

"That's right," said Scarlet, pointing towards Fox. "Felix, this is Fox. He leads this group."

"A pleasure to meet you," Fox replied, moving towards him and shaking his hand.

Felix gave him a courteous head nod. "I'm glad it worked out for you to stay here. I had an alternative energy executive scheduled to visit this week, but he bailed out at the last minute. His loss is your gain, I suppose. The guest house here is all yours. It has four bedrooms, although the couch in the living room pulls out if two of you really can't stand to share the same room.

Fox cringed internally. With so many teammates, trying to split up the more fractious members into shared living quarters would not be painless. For the time being, however, he pushed it to the back of his mind and returned to the present. "Thanks again, Felix. We owe you for this one."

The lanky fox shook his head. "You don't owe me anything. I'm just doing what I can to make it up to Scarlet."

The red vixen blushed.

"Speaking of you," Felix continued while looking at his bodacious ex-girlfriend, "What's with the normal clothes?"

Scarlet responded with a great deal of uncertainty in her voice. "Oh, that. I don't really want to talk about it right now. Can we discuss that in private a bit later?"

"Sure," said Felix. He dug through his pockets, and after a second, he pulled out a set of keys. Starting with Fox, he handed one of them to each of his visitors, explaining, "Here are the keys to the house. Please don't try to copy them. Just give them back when you leave. Also, if you look at your keys, you'll see a button on the back. That's for the front gate in case you want to run out and pick something up. Please take care of them, okay?"

"Thanks," Scarlet spoke up. "I need to pick up some…uh, cosmetics."

"If you need to do that, there's a drug store a half mile up the road, that way." Felix pointed beyond the guest house. Turning his attention to Fox, he added, "Oh, and Fox, I'd like to meet with you sometime soon. I'll let you get settled in tonight, but if you have time, I'd like to set something up for tomorrow."

Fox shrugged, not knowing what to expect from Felix's so-called 'meeting.' "I think I can do that. Again, thanks for helping us out."

Crossing his arms, Felix replied, "Not a problem. Have a nice stay, team."

"Uh…thanks, Mr. Felix!" Slippy croaked, digging out his key and heading for the closest entry door on the side of the guest house while carrying his luggage with his free hand. Miyu followed suit, with Katt and Krystal tailing both of them inside. Preparing to enter the house himself, Fox turned towards the door and stopped when Scarlet made no attempt to follow him.

Without words, he gave her a curious stare, which prompted an answer from her. "Go on in, Fox. I need to talk with Felix for a little while. Don't worry—it won't be too long."

Although he wondered about the nature of Scarlet and Felix's meeting, Fox obeyed her and walked into the house from the first level's side door. Closing it behind him upon entering, he stepped into a small entryway that forked off into three directions. To the right were two of the house's bedrooms, up ahead was a set of stairs that led to the second floor, and to the left was a sizeable living room, replete with comfortable furniture. Slippy and Rena lounged on the couch, watching an anime show on the large flatscreen mounted to the wall. Miyu sat at a small table in the back of the room and occasionally glanced at the TV. However, she kept the majority of her mind focused on her phone screen, which displayed a humorous internet video which she watched with small earbuds protruding from her ears. Meanwhile, Katt stood near the kitchen, in the back part of the living room. She held her phone in front of her while engaging in a text conversation with her boyfriend in Titania.

Fox sighed and came to a standstill in the center of the room. Despite the Red Group office party being slated to start in less than twenty-four hours, none of his team members looked even slightly concerned. As far as he could tell, each of them managed to focus on the moment at hand, without worrying about the details of a future they had little control over. He understood. After all, the long flight from Corneria City to Eladard would have been bad enough in a passenger plane, let alone the team's cargo behemoth. That, and the house Felix had allowed them to lodge in was borderline opulent. Even during his team's most successful streaks, he never considered taking the proceeds and using them to add unnecessary luxury to his life.

He glanced to his right, back towards the main entry area. At the same time, that familiar unsettling sensation of his brain being tickled caused his ears to perk up. Already knowing what to expect, he walked out of the living room and into the entry area. As he expected, Krystal stood at the bottom of the flight of stairs leading up to the second floor. She still wore her Kursed bodysuit, but not the accompanying mask. The vixen let out a melancholy sigh as Fox locked eyes with her.

"Did you want to talk?" Fox asked, keeping his voice low to prevent the others from hearing him.

"I would appreciate that," Krystal replied. "Can we take this upstairs?"

Fox nodded in assent. "Sure."

Without any additional words, Fox followed his blue teammate up the stairs to the second floor while carrying his small yet heavy bag of extra clothes and toiletries. The top of the stairs ended with a wall, with two identical corridors opening up to the left and to the right. Krystal walked to the right, leading Fox towards a large bedroom. She had evidently spent at least a moment inside the room prior to this, as the lights on the overhead ceiling fan were on and Krystal's large luggage bag sat on the floor next to the bed. Pure white sheets covered the bed, with matching white pillows that gave off a clinical, inoffensive air.

Crouching to unzip her luggage, Krystal pulled out a single garment and said, "Give me a moment to slip into something more comfortable." While Fox crossed his arms, she walked into the nearby bathroom and turned on the lights. She stepped out of Fox's sight, but did not close the door behind her. The sounds of zippers being undone reached Fox's ears. He glanced towards the opened door and realized that he could actually see her in the large bathroom mirror if he stepped two feet closer to the bed. At that moment, a realization dawned on him.

" _There's no way she's_ not _going out of her way to flirt with me."_

However, he refrained from taking the opportunity to watch her change out of her bodysuit and into a light blue satin slip, in which she emerged from the bathroom. She approached her luggage before winking at Fox and shoving both her bodysuit and underwear into the bag. While the tips of Fox's ears turned red, she turned, took a seat on the bed, and beckoned for Fox to sit next to her.

He obliged, although Krystal's mannerisms put him on edge—not in a bad way, however. The instant he took a seat, the blue vixen's tail wagged against his and sent a jolt down his spine. In the forefront of his mind, he wondered if she had plans for something other than a mere "talk." However, the fact that she had not closed and locked the bedroom door seemingly eliminated the possibility of what he considered to be her true motivation. The door hung open, but not widely enough for anyone to peer inside.

Feeling more and more awkward by the second, Fox broke the silence. "So, you wanted to talk?"

"Yes," Krystal sighed. "You're concerned about me and Scarlet 'competing' for you, no?"

Fox blushed, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, yeah. Look—she's dangerous. I mean, she's not a bad person, but she really has the hots for me, and I don't want you to be caught in the middle of things."

The blue vixen responded with a gracious, gentle smile. She all but leaned against his shoulder and murmured, "Trust me, Fox—I can handle her. We're on good terms. Don't tell her that I told you this, but I had a talk with her about this exact thing."

Fox's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You're telling me that she was able to finish that conversation without storming off? I'm stunned."

"Well, it wasn't easy, I'm afraid. We _did_ come to an agreement, though."

"What kind of agreement?"

Krystal shook her head. "Sorry. That's between me and her for now. I hope you understand."

"I'm not sure I do," Fox replied.

"Too bad. I assured her that I wouldn't gossip about her dealings with anyone else. I don't want to break her trust. I'm sure you can understandthat, with your trust issues and whatnot.

Fox sighed. "I guess I can't argue with that." He glanced directly at Krystal, first at her eyes and then at her subtle yet mildly provocative attire. "I take it you're going to bed early?"

"I am," Krystal nodded. "The flight over here knocked me out. I want to be at my best tomorrow. I usually need more sleep than most people, anyway. Being a telepath takes a lot of energy."

Fox could sympathize. In fact, he had previously wondered what kind of mental "churn" scanning the thoughts of others would create. He looked at the blue vixen again and saw traces of exhaustion in her facial features. "Okay. I'll leave you to yourself, then. Have a good night, Krystal."

Standing up, Fox walked towards the bedroom door. However, before he could exit the room, Krystal called out, "Fox?"

The vulpine turned around. "Yes, Krystal?"

Her voice uneasy, Krystal all but whispered, "You can come back in when you're ready to sleep. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Fox swallowed. His eyes dilated. Was that an offer? Out of reflex, his hand shot straight to the back of his head. Damn, it gets annoying to keep writing that cliché emote. _"Ooh Krystal, I wuv u so much, but I'm so bashful and my heart is so broken and I don't have the balls to tell you how I really feel."_ You know what? It's manly Fox time.⁹

A faint grin worked its way onto Fox's lips. "I'll see you in a few hours, then."

Krystal smiled back.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

For the time being, Fox left Krystal to her sleep. After he turned off the bedroom light and closed her door, he descended the stairs to the guest house's first floor and rejoined the rest of his team. All four of them continued the exact same activities they had been partaking in before. However, mere seconds after he entered the living room, Katt pocketed her phone and motioned towards Fox.

"Heya, Fox."

Fox crossed the living room floor, walking behind the couch as to avoid blocking the anime show on the TV screen and incurring the wrath of the furious yellow banshee sitting next to Slippy. "Yes, Katt?"

"I had a question for you," said Katt, placing a hand on her hip. "Do you have any need for a pilot?"

Glancing off to the side for a moment, Fox replied, "Not right now. It might be good in the future, though. Why do you ask?"

Katt sighed. "My BF isn't getting along too well with the higher-ups in the PMC he works for. He says—in his words—they're a bunch of 'douche canoes' who don't pay him enough."

Fox failed to keep his eyes from rolling. "No one gets paid enough. I don't get paid enough."

"I don't get paid enough, either," Katt concurred.

"Correct! Everyone gets a raise the instant this mercenary operation has a positive assets-to-debt ratio. Don't hold your breath.¹⁰"

"Crap," Katt grumbled. "Well, I guess I should tell Falco that you're not interested."

"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't," Fox protested, pointing a finger at her. "I just said I'm not in a good position to hire someone to fill a position that doesn't exist right now. I'm more than capable of flying the _Great Fox_ around. I really don't mind it. Now, if we had some other air vehicles, then I'd think about it some more."

"Gotcha. Thanks for letting me know, anyway, Fox."

"Hey, no problem, Katt," Fox replied.

At that moment, the house's front door opened, and Scarlet walked in. The red vixen carried a plastic bag with a pharmacy's logo on it. The instant that she stepped into the foyer inside the door, she called out, "Fox—can you help me with something?"

Fox responded by crossing the living room floor again. For once, he suspected that her request for help was innocent in nature.

He was wrong.

Stopping in front of Scarlet, he crossed his arms. For a moment, his brain shorted out. Even without a slinky catsuit, her raw beauty caused his breath to catch in his throat to the point where he forced his internal voice of reason to scream at his primal nature and declare that Scarlet's attractiveness was nothing but a deadly trap. After the most awkward three seconds of the past week—which were not lost on Scarlet—Fox asked, "What did you need help with?"

Scarlet smirked, although uncertainty laced her features. "I need to dye my fur blue for the party tomorrow. Since we're going to be spending most of the day setting everything up, I kind of need to take care of it now."

"…And why do you need my help with that?"

"Because I can't reach everywhere to get an even application with the dye."

Fox's eyes dilated. "Oh…Couldn't you just ask Krystal to help?"

"I could," Scarlet shrugged. "I don't see her anywhere around here, though. She seemed pretty tired when we unloaded the van. Plus…" her smirk became more devious. "…It's way more fun if you do it. Pretty please?"

Fox's brain flailed about, looking for a way out of Scarlet's request. After a moment of furious brainstorming, he came up with an escape solution. "You know, Krystal would be angry with both of us if she found out—and since she can read minds, you know she would."

Still grinning, Scarlet shook her head. "Good thing I talked with her about this earlier. She didn't feel comfortable with putting her hands all over me, so she said it would be okay for you to do it instead."

"I thought you were trying to turn over a new leaf," Fox muttered, crossing his arms in disapproval.

"I didn't say I was trying to reinvent myself as Sister Cynthia.¹¹ I'm just taking the kink-o-meter down a few notches."

"It's not sounding that way to me," Fox retorted.

"Oh, shut your mouth." Scarlet rolled her eyes and tapped her foot on the floor. "Seriously, I need help applying the fur dye, and you're the person I'm the most comfortable with. Please?"

A giant sigh escaped Fox's mouth. "Fine…"

* * *

\- § -

* * *

 _Forty-five minutes later…_

Fox stood in front of the mirror in the guest house's large upstairs bathroom. Blue dye covered his medical gloves, which Scarlet provided him with in order to prevent him from having stained fingers for the next three days. Scarlet herself stood in front of him, naked from head to toe and covered in sapphire blue fur dye and white fur paint. Packets and containers of used-up dye sat on the countertop, along with a veritable pile of paper towels. A drop cloth covered the floor under Scarlet's feet to prevent any splatters from damaging the expensive tile floor. On the countertop, a plugged-in hair dryer cooled down after having been used to speed-dry Scarlet's dyes.

Scarlet ran her fingers through her newly-dyed hair and glanced at herself in the mirror. "Wow. You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be. You did a great job, Fox. You ever do this before?" She turned and looked over her shoulder at him.

Fox rapidly shifted his eyes away from Scarlet's shapely hindquarters and looked her in the eyes. He blushed. "Actually, no."

The blue-dyed vixen turned to face him and replied, "We'll, you're a natural, then. Next time I need my fur dyed, I'll be sure to call you. I'd be happy to pay you for it."

Fox grimaced. "Eh…thanks, but no thanks."

Scarlet's expression soured. Her ears drooped slightly. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, no—don't take it personally. I just…don't really want to do it again."

Scarlet's voice became uncharacteristically quiet, as if she had to force herself to come to grips with a painful reality that she did not want to accept. "I understand."

The air inside the bathroom became tense, as well as silent. Fox eyed the doorknob and thought about leaving the room, but knowing that Scarlet's dye still needed another fifteen minutes to dry out enough for her to put her clothes back on, he forced himself to stay put. As much as he wanted to escape the discomfort of his situation, he did not want to abandon his friend, who had no issue with him staying with her.

Silence prevailed for a moment, before Scarlet broke it with her quiet voice. "I feel like I need to let something out."

Fox tensed up. "What is it?"

Moving towards the shower/bathtub combination at the back of the room, Scarlet looked away from Fox and said, "I don't understand why you want to push me away—especially so you can go after someone who _literally tried to have you killed._ You don't need to have your memory jogged, do you?" She turned her head and glared at Fox with anger in her eyes.

Fox's pulse quickened. Scarlet's rage was a dangerous thing. He seldom saw it, but when she lost her temper, heads rolled, metaphorically speaking. He needed to defuse the situation, and quickly. Making matters more difficult was the realization that she had a point.

"Yes, I know Krystal was a spy working for East Fortuna, and yes—I know she tried to have me killed. She is also genuinely sorry for everything and wants to make things right. Also, I'm not even trying to start anything with her. Don't overreact." Considering that he planned to return to Krystal's bedroom and literally sleep with her, his last statement came out laced with insincerity.

Scarlet huffed. "Hmph. I see the way you act when she's around. You try to hide it, but those stupid little butterflies flap their stupid little wings in your stomach whenever she looks at you—I can tell."

Fox clenched his teeth. He had no way out of explaining that one. As much as he feared incurring Scarlet's wrath and possibly endangering the upcoming job, he chose to roll the dice and make the most honest observation he could. "Scarlet, there's something about _you_ that I don't understand."

The blue-painted vixen stood still, awaiting the completion of his observation.

"For all the years I've known you, you have never once been in a long-term, committed relationship. Not one time. Why, all of a sudden, are you upset that I'm not interested in something you've never shown any interest in before?"

Scarlet's head dropped. Her ears fell in sorrow, and her proud, tall posture morphed into a cowering slouch. Her tail fell between her legs. A quiet sniffle left her nose before she gathered the resolve to answer Fox. "I just want to know that you value me."

Fox rarely held sympathy for his scandalous friend, but in this case, a sense of pity overwhelmed him. _"That's_ what this is about? You just want me to tell you that you're loved? Scarlet, of course I value you. I wouldn't have anything to do with you if I didn't." Despite feeling uncertain about what he had in mind, he approached Scarlet and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Turning her around to face him, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Scarlet's tense muscles loosened themselves. However, before Fox had any chance to react, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips against his. Her tongue caressed his snout, begging for him to open up and allow her access; but he shut her out. Fox returned her aggressive gesture with a quick peck on the lips, then broke away and backed out of her embrace.

Contrary to what Fox intended, Scarlet's mood changed from disappointed to outright dejected. She said nothing, but her body language in and of itself communicated what Fox needed to know. As much as he wanted to avoid further damaging Scarlet's already obliterated ego, he decided to drop a second "truth bomb" on her. She seemed more willing than most to accept hard truths—a trait that he found refreshing in a world where thick skin seemed nonexistent.

"Scarlet, I'm not the one for you. You should have realized that by now."

The vixen looked at him out of the tops of her eyes since her head was angled towards the floor.

Fox continued, "I need a structured life. I need to know where my money is coming from next, I need someone I can count on to be there for me, and I need a consistent place to come home to. You're the complete opposite. You're impulsive. You live for whatever sounds best right now. That's fine, but I can't live that way. You and me—we'd never have a chance together."

"But don't opposites attract?" Scarlet pleaded.

He shook his head. "Maybe in the movies. This is real life, Scarlet. Real talk: you need to get over me being your first lover and me supposedly being 'better' than every other guy you've met since then. Personally, I don't think you've looked very hard. You need to find someone who shares your interests better than I do. There's definitely someone out there for you."

"They don't love me like you do, though. All they can think about is how I'll be in bed. Fox, when we hooked up all those years ago, I felt loved. That's a fact."

Fox curled the corner of his mouth. "This is a discussion you should probably save for a therapist, but I think I know why you feel that way."

"Why?" Scarlet demanded, her voice anxious from the fear of what she thought Fox might say.

"I think you're afraid of emotional intimacy. You're looking for love in all the wrong places because you're afraid of what actual love is about. You're afraid that if people saw the real you, they wouldn't like it. You feel like you can trust me more than most people, so you're not as afraid to make yourself vulnerable."

Scarlet became dead silent. After three tense seconds, she spoke. "Damn it."

Fox opened his hand and extended his arm towards her. "Don't be sad. Maybe you should try talking to Hartmann?"

* * *

\- § -

* * *

 _Meanwhile…_

A repeated vibrating noise awakened Hartmann from his sleep. With a furious groan, he sat up in his hotel bed and looked around. Sheila remained sound asleep in the queen bed next to his, while traces of moonlight traced their way through the tiny gap in the thick curtains hanging over the room's large back window. He turned his attention to the nightstand to his right. In the center of it, his phone continued vibrating. With each pulse, it moved ever so slightly closer to the edge.

Not wanting to have to get out of bed to pick his phone off the ground, Hartmann snatched it up and glanced at the screen. He recognized the number so quickly that he did not even need to study it to know who had called. As quietly as possible—yet with intense excitement—he answered the call and whispered, "Lucas!"

" _Yes, I'm still alive,"_ the jackal replied.

"Talk to me, buddy. I was worried about you."

" _I appreciate your concern,"_ Lucas exhaled. _"We have a lot to look into."_

Hartmann's ears stood on end. "Tell me about it. Who were those people in the helicopters?"

" _I have no idea. They had no markings on anything—no marks on their clothes or on their helicopters. Clearly, they didn't want to be identified. I strongly doubt they're working with East Fortuna, though."_

"How can you tell?" asked Hartmann.

" _They came looking for the same things that we were after. If they were with East Fortuna, they would have known better than to waste their time by coming out there."_

"Then who do you think they were working for?"

Lucas paused. _"I have no idea, and that terrifies me. There was something else about them that was also terrifying."_

Hartmann said nothing, awaiting Lucas to answer the unspoken question himself.

"… _It was their leader. She told me her name—Agatha. She's a Cerinian, and the most powerful telepath I've ever seen. What's worse, everything about her body looks completely synthetic. For all I know, she might have been torn apart in a lab and rebuilt as a killing machine."_

Hartmann took a quick breath. "Lucas, do you remember those old files we dug up from the intel taken from Sunset Island years back? The reports of bioweapons and genetic engineering?"

The jackal's voice took on a disturbed tone. _"Yes…"_

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

" _Those people were working for Andross?"_

"Exactly."

" _He really_ is _out there,"_ Lucas muttered.

Hartmann nodded. "We're getting closer. I might have a lead on where to look next. One of those two helicopters was a Red Group design. I'm sure of it. As you know, the Red Group will sell their designs to anyone willing to pay up. If you can somehow find anything about the attack helicopter that escorted the big one to the Fichina base, we'll be one step closer to the prize."

" _Looks like a trip to Eladard is in order. When can we meet up?"_

Hartmann looked around the room, while Sheila grumbled in her sleep. "Not for a little while. I'm in Zoness right now with Sheila. We're going to visit the International Archives tomorrow to see if we can pull up anything on the Ortega family that we don't already know. You go ahead to Eladard. We'll catch up later."

Shock laced Lucas's words. _"Wait, what? 'We?' 'Sheila?' You didn't take her with you, did you?"_

"Yes, I did," Hartmann replied with a smirk.

He could practically see Lucas facepalming through the phone. _"You are going to regret that, I can assure you."_

"I don't think so, buddy. I forgot what I've been missing for the last few years. Huskies give the best cuddles."

A giant groan emanated from Lucas's end of the call. _"I'll head to Eladard. Talk to you later."_

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 This number has no significance whatsoever. You've been had!

2 Words are very unnecessary—they can only do harm. Sorry. It couldn't be helped.

3 If only he knew that it was a literal party.

4 If it was not obvious enough, Rena was originally created as a reference to Renamon from Digimon. However, as I thought up her character, I became annoyed by the furry community's sexualization of a character that I never saw as being sexually attractive. So, to subvert this, I made her vehemently asexual.

5 Periphery. Rena is a "true metal" fan and hates just about any kind of music with mainstream popularity. Her love for Peripherals is blunted somewhat by their unexpected ascendance as progressive metal frontrunners.

6 This was calculated by running a flight time estimator from Beijing to Panama—roughly analogous to the longitudinal position of Corneria City and Eladard on the _Sierra Foxtrot_ planet Lylat.

7 This statement is not a mistake. It's no accident she did not state that Fox would be her first choice for marriage. Her attraction to him is mostly emotional and sexual, and she would prefer not to be roped into a traditional marriage with him. Also, it can be inferred that since her first choice for a husband is her ex, she has very little interest in marriage, period.

8 Uh oh, r/redpill is trying to escape the quarantine.

9 I don't mean any offense to my fellow Star Fox fanfiction writers, specifically Fox X Krystal shippers, but Fox's blubbering, stuttering, limp-wristed dating shenanigans in fanfiction writing have been getting old for a long time. Time to put a fork in it. This same sentiment (along with a similar statement) was echoed by Doggo Sanchez the Action Hacker in the _Sierra Foxtrot Adventures_ short "Action Hacker."

10 Ever wonder why Fox is so cynical in this story? It's simple: his old team including his wife was killed by his closest friend's betrayal, his company is struggling to turn a profit during wartime (when business should be booming), and he has to put up with several dysfunctional employees that he can't easily get rid of.

11 I can't remember if I mentioned it at any point in this story, but Scarlet's given name is Cynthia. This isn't a reference to anything. Sure says something about her when she prefers for people to address her by her stripper name instead of her actual name, huh?


	22. Shaken, Not Stirred

**Arc V: Party Crashing**

 _Part 4: Shaken, Not Stirred_

 _Chapter 21_

After over a week's worth of preparations, the 'party crashing' operation finally commenced. As the afternoon waned and turned into evening, the team piled into Foxfire Enterprises' van and headed towards the Red Group facility. Fox himself took the wheel, navigating through the tight, congested city streets. An air of tension pervaded the van. So many details had the potential to go awry, yet almost all of said details needed to come together for the plan to work correctly. For starters, Miyu and Katt needed to bring Slippy's catering equipment and food up to the party. After that, Fox and Slippy planned to trail them to the same location along with Scarlet and Krystal, each of whom wore a short black skirt and an overly-tight, translucent white dress shirt along with black, high-heeled dress shoes. As little as Fox discussed it with the others, he had doubts that he and Slippy would be able to pass as Scarlet and Krystal's "handlers." Then again, Scarlet was somewhat of a hot commodity in Eladard, and requiring a bodyguard could have been seen as plausible.

In minutes, the four reached the Red Group's main facility—a twenty-story office complex built in front of a manufacturing plant that assembled the company's prototypes and limited-run projects. Noticing an expansive parking lot just off the main street, Fox pulled into it and parked the van in a wide-open spot near the edge of the parking lot, where he felt a quick exit would be convenient. He had a feeling that it might have been a good idea.

He turned the van off, then looked over his shoulder at Scarlet and Krystal. "Are you ready to go, girls?"

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "As ready as I'm going to be."

"Oh, come on—it'll be fun," Krystal countered, although Fox wondered if she had said that because she needed motivation for what she and Scarlet planned to do.

Fox fiddled with his black blazer's lapels and then opened his door. The rest of the team—save for Rena—followed his lead. "Let's do this, then. Miyu and Katt—I'll help you get the catering equipment out of the back, but after that, you're on your own. We can't have them thinking that we're all one group."

"I gotcha," replied Katt. "Say, Slippy—what food did you decide to make?"

At that moment, Slippy climbed out of the van. He adjusted his tie before looking at Katt and Fox with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Fox knew that gleam—it was the same one he saw when Slippy transformed into 'Skidd Marx' in Katina. Or rather, he would have seen the gleam if Skidd's cheap, black sunglasses had not been hiding it.

"Oh no," thought Fox.

Confirming his worst fears, Slippy glanced at Katt and replied with an accent that sounded nothing like his normal voice. "I don't know who thish 'Shlippy' pershon ish. I'm Pond—Jaymsh Pond.¹"

While Fox buried his face in his palm, Katt asked him, "Is he really doing this again?"

"Just kill me already," Fox muttered, rubbing his head in consternation. _"Unless his new persona gives him special powers, I am going to choke him half to death after this is over,"_ he thought.

Katt smacked herself in the face. "Whatever. Let's just get this stupid catering equipment out of the van. Miyu—a little help?"

"On it," the lynx replied, jogging around the van while Katt opened the dual rear doors. With Fox joining in, the two removed the silver catering heaters along with a wheeled cart, which Fox helped place the heaters upon. He then filled the remaining space on the cart with a nondescript travel bag containing Rena's drone.

"See you inside in a few minutes," Fox called out.

Miyu and Katt nodded and began pushing the catering cart across the parking lot towards the office complex.

With the two ladies out of earshot, Fox turned his attention towards his resident "secret agent."

"Slippy, could you give it a rest with the alter egos?"

"Her majeshty'sh shecret shervishe will not be compromished," Pond replied.

A massive groan left Fox's mouth. Attempting to dispel his growing fury, he walked back towards the open right side of the van. He climbed inside and looked into the back seat, which Rena had converted into a mobile computer station complete with a tower and a small desk bolted to the floor and a monitor attached to the van's interior frame.

He and Rena locked eyes. Both rolled them at the same time.

Rena spoke, her voice as surly and frustrated as usual. "You know, I'm starting to feel better about camping out in the van instead of coming in there with you."

"You don't say," Fox grumbled, just loudly enough for a certain someone outside the van to be able to hear. "Rena, there's something you never explained to me."

"Yes, Senpai?"

"How are you planning to hack the main database inside that complex? I really need to know. You can't just _do_ that. This isn't a video game."

Rena scrunched her lips to the side. "Yes, but it _is_ a literary adaptation of one."

Fox's brain hurt for a moment. "Really, Rena? This is probably the least Star Fox-y Star Fox fanfiction ever written. We don't even have spaceships. It's not even sci-fi. Heck, my company isn't even called Star Fox. Starfox was probably part of Scarlet's stripper name."²

A surprised voice came from outside the van. "Hey, how'd you know that?"

"Ugh," Rena groaned, looking straight at the inside of the van's frame.

Shaking his head, Fox returned to the prior focus of his conversation. "Rena, really—I need to know what you've got planned. We're here, and in less than two hours, we're going to start the operation. Now is not a good time for you to be stonewalling me on this."

The yellow vixen fixed her eyes in a defiant stare. However, she quickly acquiesced and pulled an unlabeled thumb drive out of her shorts pocket. Not wanting to get up from her seat, she held out the drive for Fox, who snatched it up and examined it. "What's on this thing, some kind of malware?"

"Kind of."

"What do you mean by that?" Fox crossed his arms and lowered his nose towards Rena for effect.

Rena breathed out a deep, apprehensive sigh. "Senpai, remember Direwolf?"

Fox's eyes suddenly dilated. At the mere mention of 'Direwolf', a horrible flashback played in his mind.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Bullets laced the hallway, the duo of ceiling-mounted security turrets blasting away with wild abandon. As death stared him in the face, Fox crouched behind the corner of a wall. Fara stood next to him, her ears pinned back and a look of sheer terror on her face. Across the hallway in a matching alcove, Rena and Rufus—a towering black rhino clad in heavier body armor than his comrades—hunkered down, unable to effectively return fire.

With nowhere to go and no apparent way to escape the hail of hollowpoint rounds that went off every time the tiniest hair or fabric came into view of the turrets' tracking cameras, Fox wracked his brain for ideas. At that moment, a voice called out to him from across the hallway. Turning his head, Fox locked eyes with Rena, who yelled, "Senpai! The control console is through the room up ahead!"

Fox could have cared less about that detail. At this point, all he cared about was surviving the bullet hell he had wandered into by accepting a questionable job from a shady operative who claimed to be affiliated with a shadowy Cornerian counter-intelligence group. According to his mission profile, a rogue contractor had extracted a prototype military AI program from the agency's digital vault and planned to sell it on the black market. Codenamed "Direwolf," the AI—underpinned by a security algorithm designed to identify and target threats fed to it by its digital masters—would have the potential to create untold chaos and destruction if placed in the wrong hands. From all appearances, it had already been used to augment the automated security system keeping him and the surviving members of his team pinned down.

Fox's ears flattened against his skull as he roared back, "It's not going to do us any good if we can't do something about those damn turrets! Can you hack them or something?"

"Are you farking kidding me?" Rena derided him.

" _I've had just about enough of this…"_

He took a single deep breath, then shouted orders to the burly rhino who stood next to Rena. "Rufus! I'll create a diversion. Follow my lead and try to take out those turrets!"

Rufus nodded and moved into position. After a quick series of hand signals indicating a countdown, Fox poked the right side of his head out from behind cover, aimed his assault rifle in the general direction of the ceiling turrets up ahead, and pulled the trigger. While his bullets attracted the security's system's attention, Rufus stepped out and took dead aim at the left of the two turrets. The room in which they were mounted resembled a computer control suite, with consoles and desks lining both walls and a large table in the center of the room beneath the turrets.

With the turrets' attention diverted towards Fox, the rhino landed several solid hits on the left gun, causing it to spark and short out. Its barrel drooped towards the floor, unable to unload any more rounds. Both Fox and Rufus internally cheered the sudden change in the mission's momentum, but in the blink of an eye, the remaining turret swiveled towards Rufus and directed its gunfire towards him. In many cases, the rhino's thick armor would have taken the brunt of the damage, but the targeting algorithm identified his least protected area and took aim at the tiny open space between his collar and his helmet.

Fox watched in horror as the turret landed multiple headshots. Rufus crumpled to the floor instantly, dropping his weapon next to him.

While Fara covered her mouth in horror, Fox stared at his teammate's corpse and screamed, "Rufus, no! Dammit! What do we do now?"

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Gripped by awe and terror, Fox blurted out, "No! Are you telling me…?"

"Yes." The yellow vixen nodded.

Fox stared at the tiny flash drive in his hand, his blood feeling as cold as ice. "We can't use this. This drive needs to be destroyed, _now."_

He closed his grip on the drive and prepared to crush it, but Rena leaped up from her seat and held her hands out. "No, Senpai! It's the only way we're ever getting into the data bank! It's too heavily encrypted for anything else to work!"

Fox released the tension in his hand and glared at Rena. "You realize what we're going to be doing if we use this, right?"

Rena returned to her chair and sat in silence.

Fox explained, "We're going to be unleashing a top secret Cornerian military AI that had so many bugs that it was scrapped after we finished Operation Shell Game. We lost two team members in that mission, Rena. You'd better not have forgotten that. Also, if the Cornerian government knew you'd had that AI ever since the end of the mission, they'd have put a hit out on you a long time ago. This is not something to be taken lightly."

"I know," said Rena. "I tweaked its parameters and preferences. It's more stable now. I've actually been using it to automate the base's security system."

Fox suddenly felt faint. "You _what?"_

"Yeah, it's done a great job. Not a single glitch."

Still stunned, Fox asked her, "Are you telling me it was running while you were captured by the East Fortunans, unable to do anything if it suddenly decided we were the bad guys?"

Rena nodded. "Yep. I rest my case. Direwolf Beta is stable and reliable. Plug that drive into the database, and this mission will be as easy as your slutty red friend."

"Hey!" Scarlet shouted from outside the van.

Fox frowned. "I'll go with your plan, but I'm warning you—if this thing goes berserk again, you'll be on the hook for it. You know what that means."

One of the yellow vixen's ears flinched, but her expression otherwise remained unchanged. "Yep."

Shaking his head, Fox slid the flash drive into his pocket and climbed out of the van. By this time, Katt and Miyu had exited the parking lot and entered the office complex where the party was slated to take place. Fox looked out over the vast, largely empty parking lot, then turned towards the two blue vixens leaning against the side of the van.

"I guess it's go time, huh?" Scarlet mumbled.

"You really _have_ changed, haven't you?" Fox replied, crossing his arms.

"It hurts me that you didn't believe me before, Fox. And yes, I'm serious about my lifestyle changes. I'm only doing this to help you," Scarlet snapped back.

As a consolatory gesture, Krystal placed a hand on Scarlet's shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not excited about this either; but we just have to accept a bit of shame for a few hours so East Fortuna can't gain any military advantages."

Scarlet hung her head. "I don't even care. Everything feels meaningless now. I can't wait until this is over so I can get back to Felix's place and wash this stupid blue dye out of my fur."

Fox sighed, making brief eye contact with Scarlet before he turned away and glanced at James Pond. His sigh repeated itself, this time as a low growl. After a five second lapse, he spoke up. "Let's move."

Crossing the parking lot, the four reached the towering complex's main office entrance, the doors of which had been left open for the arrival of the partygoers and the entertainment for the evening. The group entered the lobby on the bottom floor and stopped in the center of the room, where a sign that read "Oscar Heinlein Retirement Party" pointed to a pair of elevators built into the left wall.

After riding it up a single floor, Fox, Scarlet, Pond, and Krystal stepped into the hallway outside the elevator. Directly across the hall from the elevator was an opened door. Inside, party streamers and a massive cake on an office table could be seen. A single guard stood in front of the door. A hulking elephant wearing a black stretch shirt and matching black trousers, he blocked access to the room, crossing his six-inch diameter arms in the most intimidating way possible.

"ID's, please," he rumbled, not changing his stance.

"Oh, hi there," Scarlet replied, digging into her purse, which she normally avoided carrying except in the rare case when she chose to wear an outfit that included a skirt. After rifling through multiple lipstick rollers, feminine trinkets, and numerous AA batteries, she produced her ID card and showed it to the guard. "We're the entertainment for this party."

"And what about them?" the bouncer asked, narrowing his eyes and pointing to Fox and Pond.

"Them? They're our handlers. They need to stay with us to make sure we're protected."

The guard narrowed his eyes even more, to the point where they looked more like slits than narrowed eyes. "I don't think so."

"Let me tell you something," Scarlet growled, putting her hands on her hips and taking a step towards the elephant. "It's in my contract that they come in with me and my friend. If you don't let them in, old Mr. Heinlein won't be getting a striptease tonight. You got that?"

"Fine," the guard huffed. "But I assure you, if I see either of these two doing anything suspicious, they're out of here—along with you. You got that?"

"Yes, we understand," Krystal butted in, cutting Scarlet off from forming an angry response that could have ended badly. "Let's get set up." She grabbed Scarlet's hand and yanked her into the room.

Fox and Pond followed the two ladies into the party area—a large meeting room with a noticeable lack of furniture in the center of the floor, where two brass poles had been set up. A long plastic table stood at the back of the room. The team's silver catering heaters sat atop it, and Fox's two feline teammates stood behind the table, dressed in a pair of professional-looking black outfits complete with dress shirts, khakis, and aprons. As the party had not started yet, Katt and Miyu kept the event's food covered.

Fox stopped in the center of the room and looked for a second exit door, but saw nothing apart from a few of the party's organizers, a large window on the right side of the meeting room, and a sign on the wall near an opening that read 'Restrooms.' Unfortunately, he did not see an exit door other than the one which they had used to enter the room.

Pond noticed the same set of details and motioned for Fox to come closer, and when he did, Pond whispered into his ear. "Thish ish looking grim already. We need to find a way pasht that guard at shome point. I don't shee another ekshit in thish room."

Fox thought about his options for a fraction of a second, but a more pressing matter weighed on his mind at the moment. "Slippy, seriously, you need to drop that accent. This is ridiculous. I am not going to put up with another Skidd Marx. Besides, it's making the spell checker go crazy."

"Shorry, Foksh," Pond replied, looking wistfully towards the window. "My tie ish making me do it."

"The heck? Your tie? Take it off, then. It looks like it's trying to choke you."

"I tried, but it'sh too tight. My shtubby fingersh can't undo the knot."

"Then let me try," said Fox, not bothering to wait for Pond to approve his actions. He reached for the amphibian's tie and threaded his claws through the tiny creases in the fabric, then gently tugged at the knot. To his horror, however, the tie refused to budge. In fact, it somehow managed to become even tighter.

"Good going, Foksh," Pond shnapped. "Now it really ish choking me!"

"Sorry! I don't know what the hell is wrong with this thing! Are there any scissors around here?"

"No, not the schishors! This ish my only tie!"

Fox slammed his palm into his muzzle. "Why did this have to happen now? You'd better have secret agent powers or something if I'm going to have to put up with that."

"I will not dishappoint," Pond stated.

"I'm going to get a sample of whatever's in those catering things," Fox muttered under his breath, walking over to Miyu's side of the catering table. As he neared it, he noticed a nondescript black bag next to the feline's foot. "Ah, good—you managed to get Zippy in here without anyone asking about the bag," he noted.

In return, Miyu rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That thing is the dumbest piece of crap I think I've ever seen. You're the boss here, but if I had any say in this, I'd tell you to chuck that thing in a trash can. I don't see what it brings to this 'mission,' if you can call it that."

"We need it because Rena won't dye her fur," Fox replied. "Plus, an extra set of hands is always useful."

From the other end of the table, Katt interjected, "You mean an extra set of tiny robotic pinchers? I don't see what those are going to do."

"We're going to find out, aren't we?" Fox replied.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

An hour passed. The party room filled up with over thirty guests celebrating the Red Group COO's retirement. Above the noise of the myriad conversations taking place at the party, the sound of pumping house music reverberated through the airwaves, originating from a seat of speakers in the back right corner of the room, where a short rodent stood behind a digital turntable, wearing an oversized, exaggerated cartoon headdress intended to look like a rat's head.³

Thanks to the relatively small size of the room, Fox and Pond managed to blend in amongst the well-dressed patrons while waiting for their opportunity to flee the room. Looking at the exit door from Miyu and Katt's catering table, Fox watched the elephant standing guard at the door and waited for him to make any kind of movement.

To his disappointment, no such movement occurred. The pachyderm hardly moved at all in the fifteen minutes that Fox stared at his back. Clearly, the guard took his job seriously.

Fox turned to his right and locked eyes with Pond. He opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, Scarlet wandered over to him and beckoned for his attention. Fox took the hint and faced the blue-painted vixen. His eyes took in her tantalizing figure and her outfit that had been arranged to look like it needed to be stripped out of in the most enticing way possible. "Hey Fox," she said, her voice flat and laced with traces of disgust. "Krystal and I are about to get started. Too bad you can't stay to watch. I'd feel better about this if you were able to stick around."

As much as he wanted to avoid giving Scarlet any implications that he held a romantic interest in her, he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I'd rather stay and watch, too." He paused, allowing for his voice to take on a serious tone. "I hate to say it, but we've got a real problem here. I don't see a way out of this room other than the main door. We can't get past Biceps with him guarding the door, and if we make too much of a commotion, the whole gig is up."

Scarlet's face hardened. She stroked her muzzle in thought, then suggested, "The music in here is going to be pretty loud while we're performing, so I don't think you'll have much to worry about there. Are you sure there isn't another way out?"

"Not a direct way out, at least. Rena's hacked blueprint of the building says that the bathroom wall in the men's handicapped stall is on the other side of a storage closet. I guess we could punch a hole through the wall if we needed to, but that would make so much noise that it might still blow our cover."

"If that's the only option, you might have to use it. I don't think anyone's going to be using the bathroom while we're performing."

Fox nodded. "Good point. I guess if there's not another way, we'll take out part of the wall. Hopefully we can move quickly after that, though. I have a feeling our cover won't last long if we leave a gaping hole in the wall."

"I'm sure you can think of something to cover it up," Scarlet replied. "Oh—looks like we're about to start. Good luck, Fox."

"You too, Scarlet."

Fox watched as Scarlet and Krystal made their way into the center of the room and addressed the crowd. At that point, he knew the time had come to act. He placed a hand on Pond's shoulder, then subtly pointed towards the bathroom doors built into the right wall. Pond nodded while Fox grabbed the black bag containing Zippy and navigated through the small crowd of people who had gathered around the catering table.

As they entered the bathroom, the music in the party area increased in volume. The thumping bass and drums overpowered all other noises in the air, indicating that Scarlet and Krystal had begun their performance. As much as Fox would have preferred to stay in the room and watch, he kept his mind focused on his objective and pushed open the door to the men's restroom.

Closing the door behind them, Fox and Pond scanned the room for any signs of activity. Finding none, Fox breathed a tense sigh of relief and latched the deadbolt on the bathroom door to prevent anyone from entering.

"Sho, what'sh the plan?" Pond asked with his hands on his hips.

"We're going to cut through the wall in the handicapped stall. Hopefully we won't make too much of a mess."

"But…you didn't bring any toolsh," Pond noted.

"That's where Zippy comes in."

Placing his black bag on the ground, Fox unzipped it, revealing Rena's pink and yellow drone. He pulled it out of the bag, then placed it between the two sinks near the door. Thanks to Rena's instructions, he knew where to find the button to power on the drone. His fingers slid along Zippy's metallic underside until he felt a tiny indentation, which he pushed.

The instant he pressed the button, the LCD screen positioned above Zippy's "eyes" flickered into life, displaying a webcam image of Rena sitting behind her desk in the parked van outside the building.

The yellow vixen's voice emanated from Zippy's tiny built-in speakers, which gave it a thin, tinny property. _"Hello, Senpai. Ready to get this operation underway?"_

"Indeed I am. Let's see what your drone can do."

While Fox and Pond watched, the pink and yellow drone's rotors powered on. Zippy lifted off the bathroom sink and hovered in midair. Over the sound of the quiet rotors, Rena asked, _"Okay, so what's the plan here?"_

"We need to cut through the wall in the handicapped stall," Fox replied, crossing his arms.

 _"Huh. Good thing I equipped Zippy with his own personal pizza cutter. This should be quick and easy."_ Without waiting for Fox or Pond, Rena guided Zippy into the handicapped stall and hovered towards the off-white drywall next to the toilet, which—mercifully—looked like it had been cleaned recently. In fact, the entire bathroom looked and smelled as clean as it had the day it was constructed. Fox had a hunch that with the party, that would not be the case for long.

 _"Activating pizza wheel,"_ said Rena.

Fox and Pond shuffled into the handicapped stall and crossed their arms. Both of them half expected Zippy's pizza wheel to break or end up jammed in the wall, but when the wheel began spinning, them held their collective breath and watched Rena work. Zippy's pizza cutter sliced through the drywall with minimal effort. In just over a minute, Rena completed a rectangular cut in the wall and backed Zippy away from it just as the cutout fell backwards and bounced off the toilet.

 _"That was easy,"_ Rena commented. _"Now to cut out the wall on the other side."_

Zippy hovered into the newly created hole in the wall and began cutting out the second layer of drywall that, when penetrated, would open up a small passageway into the storage closet on the other side of the bathroom. However, just as Zippy's pizza wheel powered up again, the most agonizing sound of all reached Fox's ears—the frantic pounding of someone trying to enter the locked bathroom.

Fox stared at Pond and nudged his head towards the door, but Pond refused to budge. Instead of moving, he held out his hand and made the three signals for "rock, paper, scissors."

"Oh fine," Fox whispered, trying to voice his frustration with as little volume as possible. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Fox flung his arm forward with his fingers in the shape of two scissor blades. To Fox's immeasurable disappointment, Pond had a feeling he would pick scissors⁴ and instead chose to clench his fist in the shape of a rock. "You loshe," Pond chortled.

Fox grumbled under his breath and walked towards the locked door, which the frantic partygoer continued to pound on. Through the door, the patron yelped, "What's going on in there? Open up! I've gotta go!"

"Sorry pal," Fox replied, "I'm a bit tied up in here right now. It's…um…really bad."

"There's more than one stall in there! Why did you lock the door?"

Attempting to feign embarrassment, Fox sheepishly replied, "There was a bit of an explosion in here. It went everywhere—the floor, the mirror, the door handle…it's a horror scene. I've been trying to clean it up for the last ten minutes, but that stuff got everywhere. I knew I shouldn't have had that pasta earlier today."

The patron remained unmoved. "I don't care! Open the door now!"

"Can't you use the women's bathroom? I'm sure they'd understand," Fox suggested.

"I already tried, but they're lined up outside the door! You know how they are!"⁵

"Well, damn," Fox mumbled, trying to sound distressed. "I think there's a bathroom in the lobby downstairs. Can't you use that one?"

"I won't make it! I've got to go now! Pleeeease open up!"

Fox looked over his shoulder in time for Zippy to fly through the hole in the wall and face him. _"Come on, Senpai!"_ Rena shouted through the drone's speakers.

Returning his attention to the door, Fox let out a panicked gasp that could have won him an acting award and yelped, "Oh crap—I've got a second wave coming. Try to make it to the lobby! Good luck!"

"NOOOO! I can't hold it any longer!" the partygoer screamed.

Fox abandoned the door and darted towards the back of the bathroom, falling in line behind Zippy and Pond as they moved through the new cutout in the wall. As he stepped into the space between the bathroom and the storage closet, Fox reached back and picked up the wall panel that Zippy had cut out. Then, he fit it back into the wall as best he could, even though the cut-out edges were still noticeable.

The duo and Rena's drone found themselves in the storage closet—a tiny, cramped space filled with shelves of paint, cleaning supplies, and several sets of navy blue service worker uniforms. Upon seeing the clothing, Fox had an idea.

"Hold up—let me take care of something here."

While Pond stared at him with a quizzical expression, Fox snatched up a set of clothes along with a pair of boots and pushed through the bathroom wall again. His ears failed to hear anything at the door, which led him to assume that the desperate partygoer had either tried to make it to the restroom on the base level or well…let's not think about that.

Oops. Too late.

Hoping that the partygoer had managed to find another bathroom, Fox draped the uniform's set of pants over the toilet seat and slid the pair of boots under both pant legs to give the appearance of someone sitting on the toilet. He had a feeling the ruse would not hold up for long, but it struck him as appearing less suspicious than if someone with a key unlocked the bathroom door and found no one inside. Either way, he knew that time was of the essence.

After stepping back through the wall and replacing the cut-out panel again, Fox looked at Rena's drone and told her, "All right. You've got the building's blueprints in front of you, so go ahead and tell us where the server room is."

Zippy tilted to the side while hovering in midair. "Let me see…here—looks like it's the first room once you leave the Red Group office sector and enter the Industrial Area. I don't know what that looks like, but once you find where the Industrial Area is, it's behind a door at the top of some stairs on the left side of the hallway." At the end of her sentence, she suddenly blurted out, "Aaa!"

Fox's ears twitched. "What is it, Rena?"

"Ow, my head hurts. It feels like someone just stabbed it with a farking ice pick, like in that song by Cadaver Cannibal.⁶"

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I dunno—maybe?" the yellow vixen yelped. "Wait—no! Someone's trying to get in the van! The door is opening!"

Terror gripped Fox. "Did you forget to lock it?!"

"Oh fark—I totally did! Senpai, help me!"

Throwing up his hands, Fox shouted back, "I can't! I'm inside the complex! You're going to have to deal with this on your own! Chop their head off with your pizza wheel—I don't care. Just don't compromise the mission! Argh!" Seething with rage, Fox grabbed Zippy and powered it down, shoving it back into his bag.

Pond crossed his arms and looked at him, his face devoid of emotion. "That doeshn't shound good."

Fox exhaled through his teeth and resisted the urge to punch the dapper amphibian in the stomach. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Pond replied.

To avoid being completely set off, Fox stomped out of the storage closet and entered the long hallway outside. The corridor sported searing red paint on both the walls and the ceiling. Based on appearances, the Red Group wanted to embrace their name even if their offices looked strange on account of it. Fox and Pond looked down both ends of the hallway; and after seeing no one, they pulled their fake ID tags out of their pockets and fastened them to their jackets.

Grimacing and hoping that Rena had managed to deal with the intruder, Fox turned to the left and began walking towards the distant server room. As he and Pond ambled through the narrow hallway, Fox glanced at the numerous security cameras mounted to the walls while keeping his head down as to avoid unnecessarily exposing the entirety of his face. He had a feeling that he needed to move quickly in order to make a clean break from the facility.

He hoped that the black bag on his back would not draw undue attention to himself, but he knew of no other way to smuggle Zippy deeper into the facility. After all, the security cameras would have gone berserk had they spotted a pink and yellow drone flying through one of the hallways.

Considering that the sun had set hours ago, the hallways remained empty. Every so often, Fox would pass an office with its lights on, but for the most part, the facility seemed vacant. However, the red hallway eventually ended with an open door that led into a much more open, light-gray area with significantly wider hallways, exposed pipes, and the general feel of an industrial operation. On the other side of the door, Fox spotted a short set of stairs on the left side of the hallway.

"It's up there," he told Pond. "We need to find a way to take out anyone who's in there without letting them see who we are."

The amphibian stopped walking and turned towards Fox. "Why don't we jusht kill them? They'll never know if we do that."

"Not a good idea," replied Fox, shaking his head. "The last thing we need here are dead bodies. Just knock them unconscious—no fatalities."

"That'sh shtupid," Pond grumbled.

"Well, whatever you think about it, it's what we're doing. Follow me."

He moved towards the stairs and climbed them, being careful not to let his dress shoes clap against the steps any more than necessary. Then, at the top, he crept towards the gray, metal server room door and reached for the silver handle. Pond fell in behind him. Then, Fox inched the door open and peered inside.

The interior of the server room was—as he expected—filled with computer equipment that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The two server banks were arranged in a way that created three distinct aisles, and Fox figured that the noise created by them would be enough to mask a set of quiet footsteps if necessary. He saw no one inside the room, but he suspected the presence of an employee somewhere in the nearby vicinity.

Pushing the door open, he crept into the server room and motioned for Pond to follow him.

Three rows of dim fluorescent lights stretched across the ceiling, their faint strobe effect giving Fox a mild headache. He crept across the floor, his ears on end and ready to alert him to any abnormal noise in the area.

Then, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of clothing rustling. The sound came from behind the server wall ahead of him and to his left. A near-silent pair of footsteps tapped upon the tile floor, approaching the main server room door, and in turn, him and Pond.

Fox wasted no time. Motioning for Pond to follow him, he darted into the center aisle. He slid his feet whenever possible to avoid 'clopping' the floor and in turn alerting the server attendee, but in the back of his mind, he cursed himself for not wearing shoes with softer, quieter soles. Upon reaching the end of the aisle, Fox poked his head out and looked both left and right.

Nobody in sight.

Looking over his shoulder to be certain that the employee on the next aisle had not crept up on him, he stepped out of the center aisle and turned into the aisle against the left wall. As he did, he saw the tip of a raccoon's tail before it disappeared around the corner, close to the door where he and Pond had entered the room.

Fox exchanged glances with Pond. Then, he crept down the aisle, letting the whirring of the servers mask his footsteps. Reaching the end of the aisle, he hazarded a quick glance at the area near the entry door. Nothing.

A faint, determined grin crossed Fox's lips. He had his quarry right where he wanted him.

He turned to his left and slipped into the center aisle where he had been a mere thirty seconds earlier. A raccoon worker wearing a tailored set of office clothes mindlessly paced down the aisle, glancing at various components on the server walls every few seconds. The gap between him and Fox amounted to only twenty feet, and every second brought Fox closer.

Then, suddenly, the raccoon twitched and looked over his shoulder. At that exact moment, Fox lunged at him, throwing his arms forward. Before the worker could make a sound, Fox clamped a hand over his mouth, then moved in behind him and placed him in a headlock. For reasons unknown to anyone but himself, he tightened his grip on the raccoon's neck three consecutive times; and after the third pump, the worker blacked out without ever having seen his aggressor.⁷

Fox took the unconscious raccoon's body and placed him in a seated position against one of the server banks. He admired his work for a moment before Pond interrupted his brief moment of self-reflection with a question. "Why did pumping his neck three timesh take him out?"

Fox crossed his arms. "I saw it on a video game I was playing a few months ago, and I thought I'd try it out. It really is amazing how much effort the developers of the Metal Cog series put into those games to make them as realistic as possible."

"Uh huh…" Pond mumbled, not believing what he saw in the least. Nevertheless, the server room attendant seemed out for the count; and in the end, results—not the techniques used to achieve them—mattered.

While Pond attempted to piece together Fox's video game logic, the vulpine pulled his bag off his back and unzipped it. He pulled out Zippy, then powered up the drone once again. He did not say it, but he desperately hoped that Rena had managed to defend herself from the van intruder. Still, Fox suspected that if any member of his team could hold their own against an unsuspected enemy, it was her. Several torturous seconds passed as Fox waited for the yellow vixen to open her webcam.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Ash if the way thish wash written washn't obvioush enough, he'sh parodying Sean Connery'sh accshent.

2 Suspecting that "Scarlet Starfox" was somebody's alias, I googled it and was somewhat (but not completely) surprised to find out that the name belongs to a character from the Extinctioners furry superhero comic.

3 The legendary Eladard-based DJ Deadr4t, of course.

4 Pond was easily able to deduce that Fox would throw scissors, since Fox had already mentioned that he wanted a pair of scissors so he could cut off Pond's tie.

5 This observation comes from experience playing music in bars. It never ceases to amaze me how ridiculous the line to the women's restroom can get in a lot of these places.

6 Icepick Lobotomy by Cannibal Corpse

7 CQC from Metal Gear Solid, specifically MGSV: The Phantom Pain


	23. Code Red

**Arc V: Party Crashing**

 _Part 5: Code Red_

 _Chapter 22_

Rena watched in terror as the van's right side door slid open. Her fingers danced across the handle of her powered pizza cutter, her nerves on edge and her hands prepared to strike. Just as she gripped her cutting weapon's handle and prepared to power it up, her assailant came into view. The figure wore clothing as black as the night surrounding him, and his fur itself blended in with the darkness. A hood covered his head, only allowing Rena to catch a glimpse of his red irises. Seemingly in disregard for Rena and her weapon, he climbed into the van and stared at her.

"Fark off!" Rena shouted. "Get out now, or I'll rip your farking head off!"

The dark figure merely sighed and closed the van door.

"Hey jerkwad, I don't make idle threats! Pizahoira kogeki!¹"

She pulled back her pizza wheel and prepared to throw it, but as she finished her wind-up, a searing bolt of pain rifled through her skull. Recoiling in agony, she dropped the pizza cutter on the van's floor and clutched at her head. "Owww! Stop it!"

In a low, raspy voice, the black figure muttered, "Calm down. I mean you no harm."

The yellow vixen's ears fell backwards in anger. "That's easy for you to say! You scared the shit out of me!"

The figure lowered his hood, revealing himself as a jackal with black and blue facial fur and dreadlocked hair. He opened his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "I apologize for that. I had no other choice."

Rena frowned. "Liar. You had the choice not to invade my van."

"I suppose."

Eyeing the pizza cutter on the floor, Rena threatened, "You'd better tell me what you're up to right now, or I'm going to bring the pain." She reached down and grabbed her pizza wheel. However, the instant her fingers touched the handle, the stabbing pain engulfed her head again.

"Owww! How are you doing that?!"

"I wouldn't have to 'do that' if you would cooperate instead of trying to murder me with kitchen utensils."

With anger visible from every inch of her body, the yellow vixen lowered her voice and growled, "Listen, you little shit. This van is private property, and you're the one breaking into it. You don't get to boss me around here!"

"I'm not bossing you around. I would merely like your help with something."

Rena clenched her fists. Whoever this newcomer was, he had her berserk button wired to a remote trigger. "Well, you're definitely not doing a good job of persuading me!"

The jackal sighed. "Look, I know who you work for. I know him personally."

"Sure you do. Go on, tell me—you're not getting me to say a word about him."

"Fox McCloud."

Surprise replaced part of Rena's anger. "Okay, you're actually right. How do you know him? He never told me about you."

The jackal cleared his throat and replied, "My boss and I encountered him in Katina. We teamed up to infiltrate Anthracite Security's HQ. You weren't part of Fox's team at the time, apparently."

" _Must've been while I was stuck in that prison camp,"_ Rena mused. "Sounds legit, but I still don't trust you. Let me call my senpai."

"Your senpai?"

Rena narrowed her eyes. "It's Fox, you idiot."

At that moment, Rena's computer screen lit up and displayed the image of Fox staring into her drone's camera while standing next to a server bank. Filled with relief, Rena looked at the screen and spoke before Fox could. "Senpai, the guy who broke into the van says he knows you."

The tension on Fox's face became visible, even through the medium-resolution image transmitted by Zippy. _"What's his name?"_

On cue, the jackal looked towards the screen and replied, "Hello, Fox—it's Lucas, with ONYX."

A tremendous sigh left Fox's mouth. After a three second pause which he used to collect himself, he explained, "He's okay, Rena. You can trust him."

Rena glanced at Lucas and frowned. "Hmph. I guess you were right. You got lucky this time, though."

Lucas shrugged.

" _Ahem, Rena,"_ Fox called out through Zippy's intercom.

"Yes, Senpai?" Rena replied, whirling back around and staring into her webcam.

" _We're in the server room. What are we supposed to do?"_

A faint grin tugged at the corner of Rena's mouth. "Now we get to see what Direwolf can do. Take the thumb drive I gave you out of your pocket² and plug it into the closest USB port."

* * *

\- § -

* * *

Inside the server room with the incapacitated raccoon office worker leaning against the server wall, Fox pulled the Direwolf USB stick out of his pocket and inserted it into the first port that he could find. For a brief moment, all the LED lights on the server wall flickered, then returned to normality.

" _Excellent. Direwolf has been uploaded to the system,"_ Rena announced through Zippy's speakers.

Fox looked towards the drone. "So, what happens now?"

" _Patience, Senpai. Direwolf is learning the system. Any moment now, it'll start funneling data back to my computer. What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"_

Nodding his head, Fox jogged his memory, bringing back to mind the details Krystal had related to him earlier. "The username you're looking for is 'Cortega.' According to Krystal, you're looking for a blueprint for a fighter jet and a tank. If there are any other files linked to that username, you might as well take them while you're at it."

" _Gotcha. I'll start the file search right now. Sit tight."_

While Zippy hovered nearby, Fox crossed his arms and stared at Pond. The amphibian spoke first. "Sho, what are we shupposhed to do after thish?"

"Once we have the files, our work here is done. All we really need to do is to find an exit. I don't think we can go back the same way we came in, though."

Rena's voice suddenly cut in. _"Senpai—I found the files. I'm extracting them now. There's something else in here, though."_

A worried expression crossed Fox's face. "What?"

" _It's a blueprint for a giant mech—like one you'd see in one of my animes."_

Fox and Pond stared at each other.

"That'sh an intereshting development."

Fox rolled his eyes, although his posture suggested deep concern. "There's no way they're actually building a bipedal mech. There's so much wrong with that design that it would never work in the real world."

"I should have you know, we're living in a world where flying pizsha cuttersh can be ushed ash weaponsh," Pond rebutted him.

"That's…That's a disturbingly good point. This might actually be a cause for conshern, then. Wait—dammit! Your accshent is shrpreading!"

"Feel the power," Pond chortled.

Digging his claws into his scalp, Fox growled, "No! I reject thish! Die, accent, die!"

Thankfully, Rena's voice shattered his bout of temporary insanity. _"Senpai, I downloaded all the files. They've been sent to my computer. You can get out of there now."_

Fox breathed a sigh of relief. "Great job, Rena. We just have one more problem to deal with."

Rena said nothing in response, waiting for Fox to explain it for her.

"We need a way out of here. I don't want to go out the same way we came in. If someone's started looking for us, we don't want to run into them."

Zippy tilted in midair. _"Good thinking. I'll go through the base blueprint to see where the exits are. Hang on…opening the file now. Okay, it looks like the closest real exit to that building is a large equipment garage on the southeastern side of the complex. It opens up to an employee parking lot with access to a public road. That looks like your best bet. There's only one problem…"_

"What?"

" _It's in a restricted area. Looks like that part of the building belongs to the Red Group's 'Skunk Works.' I may have a way to make this work, though."_

Fox looked warily at Zippy's front camera. "What did you have in mind?"

" _I'm going to try to use Direwolf to bridge the database with the building's security system. The two systems aren't technically linked, but there might be a few backdoors that I can chain together to get what you need. Hold tight."_

"Don't take too long," Fox warned, "We need to get out of here before this guy wakes up." He motioned to the unconscious raccoon propped up against the server wall.

"Hey, I'm going as fast as I can," Rena grumbled.

For the first time in 12 lines of dialogue, Pond spoke up. "Shpeaking of 'that guy,' he'sh moving."

Fox spun on his heels in time to see the raccoon beginning to stir. The office worker groaned and rubbed his forehead, but did not open his eyes.

"Do something!" Fox ordered Pond.

Pond reacted immediately, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out what appeared to be a black click pen with gold trim. Nonchalantly, he pointed the tip at the raccoon and pressed the clicker at the back of the pen. A quick 'whoosh' of air reminiscent of a quiet bang filled the air. A tiny projectile sped out of the pen and embedded itself in the raccoon's neck. Within seconds, he stopped moving and flopped back against the server wall.

With his work done, Pond slipped his special pen back into his pocket and looked at Fox with his arms crossed and his face locked in a satisfied expression. "Problem sholved."

"He's not breathing," Fox observed, worry tingeing his voice.

"Good. That meansh the poishon ish working," Pond replied.

Fox let out an audible gasp. "Slippy! You killed him! I said 'no fatalities!'"

"Whoopsh," said Pond in a voice that made it obvious that he could not have cared less about Fox's demand that no Red Group employees be killed during the infiltration.

Fox looked around the room as if someone would barge through the main server room door and blow his team's cover at that very second. "We need to get out of here as quickly as possible." He glanced at Zippy and demanded, "Rena, we've got to get moving. What's your progress?"

" _Stop rushing me, Senpai! Fark! I just got into the security system. I'm locating the cameras in the hallway outside the room you're in. I'm going to try replacing the live video feed with a loop from a half hour ago."_

"Does that mean we can go now?"

" _Senpai, are you…?"_ Rena paused for thought, then spoke up again. This time, her words came out even more caustically than before. _"You know what? Sure. Just go. I know you like living life on the edge."_

"What about Direwolf, though? We need to protect that thumb drive at all costs. It's too dangerous for me to leave the room without it."

Rena let out a furious sigh. _"I'll store it inside Zippy and catch up with you in a few minutes. Lucas wants me to stay patched in so he can look for some files."_

A wary, distrusting expression crossed Fox's face. "This is a terrible idea. If that drive gets misplaced, or if Zippy gets destroyed while carrying it…" He paused for effect, crossing his arms and lowering his ears in frustration. "…There will be hell to pay."

In a rare show of weakness, Rena stuttered, _"O…Okay. I get it. I promise that I'll keep it safe. You can leave the room now. The cameras aren't monitoring the hallway anymore."_

"Nice work, Rena. Don't take too long, okay?"

" _Sure thing, Senpai."_

* * *

\- § -

* * *

While Fox and Pond beat a speedy exit from the server room, Rena remained at the controls of her drone while sifting through the contents of the Red Group's databank. Lines upon lines of data raced past her on her monitor, but little of it struck her as interesting. Frowning, she looked over her shoulder at Lucas, who leaned towards her against the van's second row of seats. "I have no farking clue why I'm sticking my neck out for you. I should have just let Fox unplug the drive."

"Trust me," said Lucas, his voice determined, "You're doing the right thing. This could be big if you find it."

"…And what exactly is 'it'?"

"I'm looking for a helicopter blueprint. I'll know it when I see it. It was a new design that didn't have a tail rotor, but it definitely looked like something the Red Group would build."

Rena stared disinterestedly at her screen. "In case you didn't realize, there's a metric farkton of documents in here. Good luck finding one single helicopter blueprint in all these files. It would be great if you know who commissioned it."

Lucas scratched his muzzle. "Hmm. I've got an idea. Try searching some names. How about 'Andross?'"³

"Huh, weird name," Rena replied. "Sure."

She tapped in the name, but nothing turned up in her search query.

"I could've figured," Lucas muttered. "Okay then, try 'Leonard Brackett.'"

Rena looked at the jackal out of the corner of her eye. "Some awfully specific names you've got there."

Lucas shrugged. "They're probably simpler than whatever your name is."

"And how would you know that?"

"You're very obviously a native Eladardian, which means that your name probably looks more like a fancy doodle⁴ than an actual title," Lucas observed.

The yellow vixen clenched her teeth and shouted, "Don't you dare disgrace my culture!"

"Told you," said Lucas, not altering the flat tone of voice that usually accompanied his words. "By the way, what _is_ your name?"

Rena sighed and lowered her head. Despite distrusting the shadowy jackal, she felt that disclosing her name posed no danger to her. "Miyoshi Urena, but you can call me Rena."

"Pleased to meet you, Rena," the jackal replied. "I'm Lucas del Rio."

In response, Rena frowned and looked away from Lucas, towards an invisible something—or more specifically, _someone._ "Seriously? Are you kidding me? Are you the least creative person alive?"

Channeling the wisdom of K.S. Reynard, Lucario—I mean, Lucas—commented, "Smart people take inspiration from others. Geniuses steal." A pair of pixilated sunglasses momentarily appeared over his eyes, and Rena swore she heard Roger Daltry scream for a split second.⁵

"Okay then…" Rena trailed off, returning her attention to her computer screen and her keyboard, which she used to type in 'Leonard Brackett.'" A second later, she looked over her shoulder at Lucas. "Sorry, there's nothing here under that name."

A low growl emanated from the canine's throat. "It _must_ be in there somewhere. Now that I think of it, I suspect it might be listed under the name of an unknown shell corporation."

"…Which means we'll never find it," Rena finished for him.

"No—it just means we need to scroll through every helicopter blueprint until we find the right one."

"You've got to be farking kidding me."

"Nope. Start scrolling."

Ears on end, Rena rotated her chair towards Lucas and put her hands on her thin waist. "Hold up—I don't take orders from you. Who do you think you are?"

Lucas tilted his head, retaining his otherwise stoic expression. "Please?"

"I don't understand why I'd waste my time looking for this dumb mystery helicopter when my senpai could use my help right now. Screw off."

"Not inside your van," Lucas replied. "That would be gross."

Rena's jaw parted. In anger, she pounded her mobile desk hard enough that in another universe, Sheppard_SD's university apartment desk trembled in fear.⁶ "For fark's sake, that's not what I meant!"

"If you don't mean it, then don't say it," said Lucas, giving the yellow vixen a casual shrug.

Rena dug her fingers into her headfur, or whatever you furries call it. "Gah—stop being so literal! And I'm not helping you find your stupid helicopter!"

Lucas attempted his best puppy-dog eyes, but his ice-cold facial expression set caused him to look no different from his usual self. "Pretty please?"

"No."

"Come on. Help me out. This could make a big difference in the world."

"No."

"Do you enjoy headaches?"

Rena suddenly recoiled in terror. "No! Not again! Seriously, how do you even do that?"

"I'm magical, like a unicorn."

"No, dumbass, the _real_ reason. I want answers!"

Lucas sighed and rested his head on his hand. "If you really must know, I'm part Cerinian. Have you ever heard of them?"

Rena nodded disinterestedly. "Yeah, there's one on my Senpai's team right now."

"Wait—how? What's their name?" Lucas's eyes widened, and he leaned forward.

"Her name's Krystal," Rena replied, "But she's been calling herself 'Kursed' and dressing up in BDSM outfits. Farking edgelord."

Contrary to Rena's expectation, Lucas narrowed his eyes, assuming an expression of deep concern. "He _recruited_ her?"

"Yeah." Rena shrugged. "Is that bad?"

The jackal covered his eyes with his hand. "My boss would have an aneurysm if he found out that she was working with Fox, although to be honest, he expected that to happen. That isn't important right this very minute, though. Keep scrolling through the helicopter files."

Returning to her keyboard, Rena grumbled, "You'd better see this thing quick, because I'm going to have to unplug from the database to catch up with my senpai."

"I know what I'm looking for," Lucas reassured her.

Files and blueprints raced past Lucas and Rena's eyes. For Rena, they looked more or less the same. For Lucas, however, the memory of Agatha's team's attack chopper remained etched in his mind. With every passing blueprint, his heart rate increased. After a full minute, concern dotted his features. Was the helicopter he saw a proprietary design built by a national design firm, such as one in Macbeth? It could not have been, Lucas reasoned. Too many design cues brought to mind Red Group designs. It was this very reason that brought him here.

Fifteen seconds of scrolling later, Rena looked over her shoulder and quietly said, "Sorry—I've got to unplug…"

"There it is!"

Ecstatic, Lucas pointed at the screen, prompting the yellow vixen to let go of the down arrow. In front of their eyes, the blueprint for the distinctive tail-rotorless design presented itself. While Rena sized up the design, Lucas's eyes scoured the document for details about the organization or nation who had commissioned it. However, nothing of note stood out to him.

"Can you dig into this document a bit more?" he asked Rena. "I need to know who opened this contract."

"Sure," Rena grumbled, opening a submenu that displayed a swarm of additional details including the commission date, the contract number, and most importantly, the organization responsible for commissioning the helicopter build. She turned her head to glance at Lucas. "I'm seeing a 'Lassos Group' here. Ring any bells?"

"Nope," Lucas replied with a sigh. "It's probably a shell corporation. At least I've got a lead now." After a brief moment of silence, he suggested, "You can unplug from the console now. I don't need anything else."

"Noted. So, what are you planning to do with this information?"

Lucas paused, stroking his muzzle. The eccentric yellow vixen's attitude and behavior patterns identified her as someone not worthy of his trust. So, for that reason, he felt that remaining mum about his intentions would be the best way forward. On the other hand, he would never have been able to retrieve the information he sought without her help. With that in mind, he reluctantly told her, "My boss and I are trying unmask a man named Andross. He's supposed to be dead, but we're all but convinced that he's alive and well somewhere, and if that's true, it's all but certain that he's working on something nefarious."

"Hmph. Interesting."

The jackal reached into a hidden pocket in his hoodie and pulled out a small, colored note with a number scribbled onto it. "If you find anything about this man, feel free to call me." He handed the note to Rena, who gave him a dumbfounded expression and refused to hold out her hand and accept it. "Seriously? We just met, you held me hostage and forced me to do your dirty work, and now you're giving me your number? That's not how this works, you idiot."

"Extenuating circumstances," Lucas murmured in reply. He gestured with his hand. "Really, feel free to take it."

"Fine!" Rena snapped, ripping the note from his fingers and stuffing it into her pocket. "Happy?"

Lucas shrugged. "I don't really care, to be honest. You do you." His eyes looked towards the side of the van, and he shifted in his seat and began standing up. "My work here is done. Thank you for your help, Rena."

"You're going?" Rena asked, her voice flat and uninterested.

"I have everything I came for," he explained. "No point in me sticking around now. Maybe I'll see you some other time."

"Huh. Maybe," Rena mumbled.

With a rustle of clothing, Lucas rose to his feet and crouch-walked towards the van's side door. His hand gripped the handle and pulled the door open. Thanks to the darkness of night, the only additional light that entered the van came from the tall flood lamps from the parking lot outside. The shadowy jackal climbed out of the van, his bare feet touching down on the asphalt. He reached for the exterior door handle and began closing the door.

"Wait!" Rena called out.

Lucas pokéd his head in through the partially-opened door. "Yes?"

"Maybe you can…"

Lucas cocked his head.

Rena released an exasperated sigh. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

"Are you inviting me to come back in?"

The yellow vixen stared at the floor in the back of the van. "No—of course not. Why would I…?" She let another sigh escape. "Yes, I'm inviting you back in."

" _Interesting,"_ thought Lucas, climbing back into the van and closing the door behind him. He reclaimed his spot on the second row bench and leaned against the seatback. In the meantime, Rena disconnected the USB drive from the Red Group's console with Zippy's manipulator arms and stored it inside the drone's shell. Then, using its remote camera, she guided it to the server room's exit and turned the doorknob. A quick tinge of terror shot down her spine at the realization that somehow, she needed to actually _open_ the door.

"Oh fark, here goes nothing."

She hovered Zippy forwards until its shell touched the door, then accelerated at full speed. Slowly but surely, the door cracked open until Rena managed to maneuver Zippy through the opening and into the industrial hallway outside.

"I could have told you that was going to be a problem," Lucas commented.

Rena bared a tooth. "Of course you could have!" In the blink of an eye, she scooped her pizza cutter off the floor next to her and hurled it at Lucas's head. However, he ducked, causing the utensil to harmlessly bounce off the back of the driver's seat.

The jackal shrugged the attack off. "I assume you weren't actually trying to kill me that time?"

A furious blush appeared on Rena's face. "No, I was trying to rip your head clean off. It would have served you right."

"I don't believe you." Lucas grinned.

Rena clenched her left fist—the one not responsible for driving her drone. Her teeth ground together in frustration. "Don't test my benevolence! Let me focus!"

Her eyes glued to her computer screen and her fingers twitching across Zippy's controls, Rena guided the drone down the hallway at maximum speed in hopes of catching up with Fox and Pond.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

 _Minutes earlier…_

While Zippy remained inside the server room, Fox led Pond back into the main industrial hallway. He followed the vast corridor towards his eventual destination, all the while not knowing exactly what he planned to do when he reached it. Truth be told, he hated the position he found himself in. With no clear way to escape the facility if all went wrong, he felt trapped and accordingly nervous.

The hallway felt so interminable that it seemed to have been over a mile in length. Of course, it was not nearly that long, but the silence and gloom that pervaded the air inside the Red Group facility had the effect of slowing time to a crawl for Fox. Then, four hundred feet ahead of him, he laid eyes on a wide, tall panel that looked more like a hangar entry than a standard door. Like the rest of the walls in the industrial area, it sported off white paint. Two guards stood on each side of the door, both holding assault weapons. Two small security cameras—the ones supposedly deactivated by Rena—protruded from the wall above the massive door.

Fox swallowed when he took a closer look at the guards. Having only a small 9mm handgun on his person, he dreaded what needed to be done next—eliminate them. He knew that the guards saw him and Pond at this point, and drawing his weapon and attacking would be nothing short of a death wish.

Then, he spotted a hallway off to the left, roughly a hundred and fifty feet ahead of him and Pond. Near the corner, a series of large pipes ran from the floor to the ceiling. Judging from their appearances, Fox reckoned that their job was to transport various fluids—probably refrigerant, gas, and water—through the complex.

He had an idea, but he felt far from confident about it. Still though, he could not think of another way to lure the guards away from their post. As subliminally as possible and without words, he motioned for Pond to follow him into the hallway. The amphibian complied.

Out of the two guards' line of sight, Fox crossed his arms and faced the trio of pipes attached to the twenty-foot-tall wall in front of him. The largest—a thick, white PVC pipe—looked related to the building's plumbing, while the smaller gray one directly to its right looked like a covered conduit for an electrical line. The third line—the one to the left—was a copper pipe. When Fox approached it and held his hand near it, he felt a wave of cold air wash over his digits.

"Freon," he thought.

Giving Pond a nervous yet determined glance, Fox took off his backpack and placed it on the ground. He unzipped a secondary compartment, digging his hand into the additional storage slot until his fingers closed on a metal implement, which he pulled out and revealed as a pair of bolt cutters.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered to Pond while the dapper frog stared at the Freon pipe in front of him.

Fox crept up to the wall and wedged the copper pipe between his bolt cutters' two blades. Then, he took a quick breath and pulled the two handles together. The pipe snapped in two with a loud 'clang' sound, followed by a rapid gushing of misty air that smelled decidedly unhealthy.

He took a step back. Then, he whispered to Pond, "All right—act panicked, like we need help right now."

Pond nodded. "Whoa! It'sh everywhere! Shomeone, help!" he shouted, windmilling his arms as if it would somehow lure the two guards away from their posts—never mind the fact that they could see neither him nor Fox.

Trying to sound as legitimate as possible, Fox added onto his amphibious counterpart's plea for help. "This AC pipe just blew up! It's spraying stuff everywhere! Get over here and help!"

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps passed as a response.

"Here they come," said Fox, "The instant they round the corner…" he smacked his fist against the palm of his other hand. Pond replied with a thumbs up.

The footsteps came closer.

Fox darted towards the corner where the main hallway intersected with the auxiliary one and pressed himself against the wall. Pond followed his movements to the inch and put his back against the wall next to Fox. In seconds, the guards' footsteps created more noise than the severed Freon pipe did. Then, they rounded the corner.

The instant the two feline guards entered his vision, Fox pushed off the wall and sprinted towards them. Only seven feet separated him from the soldiers to begin with, so it took no time for him to ready his next movement. Trusting that Pond would take care of the other guard, Fox swung at the first soldier with a wild punch that caught him square in the nose. Stunned, the orange cat dropped his assault rifle on the floor. Fox was not finished there, though. With the soldier stunned and coming to grips with a newly broken muzzle, Fox grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed his face into the wall near the corner.

The guard blacked out and crumpled to the ground, blood dripping from his nose.

Fox breathed a tense sigh of relief, then looked to his right to see Pond brush off his green hands and walk towards him. Like the first guard, the second soldier lay on the floor, unconscious.

"Check him for anything that might get us through that door at the end of the hallway," Fox ordered.

While Pond set to work going through the second guard's pockets, Fox searched the first soldier for anything resembling an ID card. After seconds of digging, his fingers closed on a metallic card, which he pulled out and held up to the dim light inside the Red Group's industrial area. "Slippy, I think I found something here."

"I told you, it'sh Pond, not Shlippy!"

Fox bared his teeth and snapped back, "Shut up! You are who I say you are!"

"You don't have to be a dick about it," Pond grumbled, looking towards the floor.

"Sorry about that. I'm just really tired of dealing with your stupid alter egos, that's all. Come on—let's see if this card opens the door."

With that, Fox reached down and picked up one of the dead soldiers' assault rifles. It perturbed him that the need for him to use it could arise, but regardless, he felt safer for what could lie ahead than if he had done nothing. In contrast to him, Pond ignored the other trooper's weapon, choosing to stick with his hidden handgun instead.

 _"This whole 'secret agent' thing has gone too far,"_ thought Fox as he walked towards the oversized door at the end of the hallway.

Upon reaching said door, Fox paused and pulled out his keycard, then slid it into the card reader to the left of the large entrance. For three tense seconds, the reader glowed red as it scanned the card. Then, the red light turned to green, and a solid 'ka-chunk' sound emanated from the reader. At the same time, the massive door split in half and slid open, revealing a darkened hallway that looked nothing like the industrial area.

The hallway through the door was coated in silver metal, while steel mesh passed as the floor. Every one of Fox and Pond's footsteps created a hollow 'clang' as they walked towards what they both felt was their inevitable destination. After two hundred feet, Fox noticed a metal railing up ahead. Holding out his hand towards Pond with his palm facing him, he crept towards the railing and peeked over it.

The floor below stretched for nearly one two hundred feet in length and one hundred in width. For the most part, the space seemed wasted. Only one vehicle occupied the chamber, which Fox suspected was an oversized garage area.

A behemoth cargo truck sat in the center of the garage floor, pointed towards one of the two roll-up doors on the right wall. Five figures stood in front of the truck—four armed soldiers, and one hulking polar bear wearing a set of power armor that looked suspiciously similar to the set in the blueprint that Lucas had found in the Fichina base. Of course, neither Fox nor Pond were privy to that detail.

" _Who's this guy? He looks important."_ Fox wondered to himself. _"More importantly, what's in that truck? It's got to be huge, given the size of that cargo box. Could it be...?"_

On the garage floor, the ursine conversed with the four guards. He spoke with a rumbling, bassy voice. "Good thing you finally got the Landmaster ready for shipment. It was taking so long that Rafa had to send me here in person, so don't take that as much of a compliment. I'll take it from here."

One of the four soldiers gave the polar bear an exasperated look and replied, "Hey, it's not our fault that it took so long. All we do is run security around here."

"Shut your mouth. No one wants to hear you talk," the bear growled. Then, in the blink of an eye, he reached for his waist, whipped a pistol out of a holster, and blasted a hole through the protesting soldier's forehead for little reason other than to affirm his evilness to the readership of this story. As the guard fell to the ground, the ursine spat, "This isn't fun and games here. Our biggest financier just pulled the plug on our entire operation. We've got to move this truck and get its cargo delivered to East Fortuna ASAP. I have a feeling that…"

He turned his head towards the balcony overlooking the garage floor, only to see Fox and Pond watching him and the Red Group guards. "Intruders! Kill them!"

Fox's eyes went wide, but he expected something like this to happen. As the guards scrambled to ready their weapons, Fox lined up the sights on his stolen assault rifle and flicked the selector switch to burst fire. Bullets leapt from the rifle's muzzle, dropping one of the three remaining guards in seconds. Between, bursts, Fox inched his weapon to the right and eliminated the soldier standing next to the now-dead guard before he could put Fox in his sights.

The instant Fox fired off his first rounds, an earsplitting klaxon alarm erupted through the building's intercom system. He took some solace in the fact that the garage was located on the edge of the building, because otherwise, the level of danger would have threatened to become too much for him and Pond to manage.

Next to Fox, Pond drew his 9mm handgun and fired on the last soldier. To his dismay, his secret agent powers failed to transfer to his gun, and every round missed. However, one did happen to bounce off the floor near the truck and penetrate the muffler. If you were expecting that to have some kind of significance later on in this story arc, it doesn't. There's just a hole in the muffler now.

Meanwhile, the armored bear raced towards the truck and vaulted into the front seat after flinging the door open. The one remaining guard returned fire on Fox, who dove for the ground the instant he saw the soldier aiming at him.

Pond shaw a window of opportunity and onshce again fired hish pishtol. Thish time, a shingle round caught the sholdier in the shoulder. He let out an earshplitting yell, only to be drowned out by the shound of the bear shtarting the cargo truck and shlamming the gash pedal to the floor. Tiresh shrieking in protesht, the truck shped towardsh the closhed roll-up door at the end of the garage. The white bear made no attempt at shlowing down.

On the balcony, Fox pushed himself off the ground and stood up just as the cargo truck smashed through the garage door, ripping it clean off its tracks and dragging the majority of it into the parking lot outside in chunks. Fox's attention, however, centered on the last guard. Despite his injury, the soldier stuck to his duty and sprayed a hail of bullets in Fox's direction. None of them hit home, in contrast to Fox's, which struck his body with surgical precision and ended his life within seconds. The guard dropped to the floor, joining the three others nearby.

Despite having wasted the majority of his shots, Pond blew on the tip of his handgun and commented, "I thought you shaid 'no fatalitiesh.'"

"The plans changed," Fox retorted, the reality of his racing heart occurring to him in the aftermath of the shootout. "Come on—we've got to chase down that truck! The Landmaster is in the back!"

The two sped down the steps leading to the garage floor, then sprinted through the smashed garage door and into the large parking lot outside. Five cars and one moped sat in various parking spaces in the vast asphalt expense. Fox wondered if they belonged to the guards that he and Pond had just gunned down.

"Hey," Fox asked, "Where's your Austin-Marcus? You're supposed to have one of those, right?"

Pond nodded. "Just one shecond."

The amphibian reached for his left wrist and tapped out a quick command on his smartwatch. A second later, a previously-invisible gray luxury sports car appeared against the side of the Red Group complex in a location where car and foot traffic would be unlikely to bump into it.⁷

Fox stared slack-jawed at the car, which he recognized as an Austin-Marcus Vulcain.⁸ "You can't be serious."

"Come on, let'sh go!" Pond shouted, sprinting towards the vehicle as quickly as his fat, stubby legs would carry him. Fox followed his lead and wrenched open the passenger's side door while his green counterpart dropped into the driver's seat and started the engine. The car's V12 powerplant came to life with a throaty rumble. As Pond shifted the car into gear with the steering wheel-mounted paddles, Zippy flew out from the opened garage door and zoomed into the parking lot.

Seeing the drone, Fox pulled out his phone and called Rena. The dial tone sounded twice before the salty yellow vixen responded. _"Hello, Senpai?"_

Raising his voice, Fox explained, "Rena, there was a truck with the Landmaster in that garage. The driver ran off with it, and I need you to scout ahead to find it. How fast can your drone go?"

" _About 30 miles per hour,"_ Rena replied. _"If the truck has to deal with traffic, I should be able to catch up quickly."_

"Good. We'll get on the roads and wait for you to tell us where to go."

" _Got it, Senpai. Wait—you're not coming back to the van? What are you driving?"_

Fox rolled his eyes. "Don't even ask."

" _Whatever,"_ replied Rena. _"I'll stay on the line until I find it."_

Fox gave Rena a quick 'okay', then turned to Pond as he navigated the Vulcain out of the parking lot and through an opening in the tall guard fence that surrounded it. In his haste, the driver of the Landmaster transport truck had ripped through the closed and locked chainlink gate preventing external access to the parking lot. The instant the car's wheels touched the city roads, Pond stepped on the throttle. The road's traffic pattern required him to turn right onto the one-way road that ran in front of the Red Group complex, and he came to a stoplight seconds later.

"Get in the left turn lane," Fox ordered. "They're probably heading to the airport. It's northwest of here, on the other side of the city."

Pond responded without a word and moved into the lane. A moment later, the light turned green, allowing him to turn onto an adjacent street flanked by towering apartment towers linked by an elaborate walkway. The road crested a slight hill, and at the top, a green light awaited the car. The southeastern part of Eladard lacked much of the congestion of the city's central downtown district, although a healthy amount of traffic still clogged the roads.

The one-way nature of the city's streets made the next left turn simple. As much as Fox and Pond wanted to speed up and gain ground on the Landmaster truck, not knowing its precise location prompted them to maintain a safe yet brisk pace while they waited for Rena to locate the truck. As Pond headed directly west alongside a median lined with palm trees, Fox glanced through the Vulcain's windscreen and spotted the Eladard Bay in the distance through a gap in a duo of sail-shaped towers. The fastest route to the airport involved skirting the bay area and the massive loading docks built on the water's edge, as well as crossing the bay itself via an undersea tunnel that linked the north and south parts of the city.

In the largely industrial and residential south part of Eladard, the driver of the Landmaster truck would have less resistance from traffic compared to the stifling, overgrown north, where the heart of Eladard's financial and service industries flourished.⁹ At the same time, the comparative lack of traffic would provide both Fox and Pond a better opportunity to catch up with the driver. All the while, Fox's phone remained silent as Rena scouted ahead with her drone.

A green light up ahead allowed them passage through the next intersection, marked by industrial warehouses on all four corners. Traffic remained light, although as Pond drove through the intersection, Fox glanced out the right side window and noticed two matching green Occela Tipo F R-Spec¹⁰ sports coupes. Something about them put his nerves on edge, and he struggled to place the reason for his unease.

…Until both cars accelerated simultaneously, turning right and falling in behind him and Pond in the blink of an eye.

Fox's nerves spiked. He turned his head to warn Pond to speed up, but before he had the chance, gunfire reported from behind the car. A bullet shredded through the Vulcain's back window, with shards of glass pelting Fox in the shoulder.

Eyes wide, Fox shouted, "Dammit! It was a setup!"

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 Shoddy translation of "Pizza Wheel Attack!"

2 Dangling participles are such joyful little beasts, aren't they?

3 It's worth noting that Rena has been completely out of the loop when it comes to the Andross intrigue going on behind the scenes.

4 This is a reference to an English language Bobobo-bo Bobobo episode (#2) where the titular protagonist needs to fill out a form, but the document in front of him is in Japanese. So, he decides that to make it work, he just needs to draw "a fancy doodle."

5 Stale memes incoming!

6 Literally no one who isn't in the fanfiction writers' Discord channel "The Foxhole" (link is in Sheppard_SD's profile) will understand this reference. Also, this joke will totally age well.

7 Very much a reference to the "Vanish" from _Die Another Day._

8 Despite the description suggesting that it's an Aston Martin Vulcan, it's actually a Vanquish S (because the Vulcan is not road legal); and I chose to call it the Vulcain as a reference to the SF64 Solar boss.

9 This is a tweak of the original _Sierra Foxtrot_ , where Eladard's industrial district was not distinct from the downtown area. The implausibility of certain events in this arc happening in the heart of a setting akin to downtown Tokyo was something that bothered me in the original story.

10 If you recall—which I doubt you do—you'll remember that Scarlet drives a similar car, which is based on a Jaguar F-Type convertible.


	24. Here Comes Chaos

**_Arc V: Party Crashing_**

 _Part 6: Here Comes Chaos_

 _Chapter 23_

Adrenaline kicking in, Pond floored the gas pedal and darted to the right, disregarding the red traffic light ahead. He aimed for the apex of the turn, but the speed at which he took the corner caused him to overshoot it and careen into oncoming traffic. Despite said traffic being light, he found himself face to face with a city bus within seconds. Face devoid of emotion, Pond tapped the brakes and weaved to the right, just enough to avoid the bus's front bumper.

At the same time, Fox stared into the Vulcain's side mirror. One of the two pursuing green sports cars carried too much speed through the corner and was forced to slam on the brakes to avoid the bus, but the other car clipped the apex of the intersection flawlessly and began bearing down on him and Pond. More gunshots rang out, but this time, none of them landed anywhere near the Vulcain's cabin.

A realization struck Fox. _"They're aiming for the tires."_

Pond began swerving, using the mostly open road ahead to avoid the small arms fire behind him. However, this allowed the green car to move even closer to his back bumper, allowing for an easier shot at the Vulcain's vulnerable rear tires.

" _Dammit, who are these guys?! What do they want?"_ Fox screamed internally. He reached into the footwell in front of him to grab his assault rifle while Pond continued darting back and forth to evade the gunfire. Disengaging the weapon's safety, he released his seat belt and rolled down his window. He leaned out the window and took aim at the car behind him, but his unfortunate position in the right side passenger's seat forced him to shoot left-handed in order to have a chance at slowing down his pursuers. None of his shots hit anything other than pavement, and it had the effect of causing the pursuing car's driver to move to his left and block Fox's entire line of fire behind the back of the Vulcain. However, his brief window of attack allowed Fox to see the two assailants in the car behind him.

The gunman in the passenger's seat was none other than Wolf O'Donnell.

Suddenly, Pond shouted, "Hold onto shomething!"

Fox had precious little time to react before Pond cut a hard left and barreled into a narrow side street lined with trash bags and litter. Styrofoam cups and discarded napkins flew through the air as the Vulcain roared through the alley at over 70 miles per hour. To Fox's shock and horror, Wolf's car managed to make the turn after them, barely losing any speed in the process. _"Whoever's driving that car knows what he's doing. Is my life really in Slippy's_ _hands right now? No—let me rephrase that: is my life really in the hands of Slippy's asinine alter ego who thinks he's a secret agent?"_

Fox was too terrified to answer that question, mostly because he knew what the answer was.

Pond zipped out of the alley, which ended with a red traffic light at a four-way intersection. Unable to stop and with no intention of doing so, he entered the intersection at speed, ignoring the cars and trucks that had the right of way. At that moment, an 18-wheeler carrying a load of concrete pipes entered the intersection opposite him and began turning in front of him. While the nearby cars slammed on their brakes and honked their horns, Pond tapped the brake pedal and turned the wheel slightly to the right to slip past the front of the truck. The semi attempted a panic stop, but the sudden rapid movement caused it to roll onto its side. The load of concrete pipes rolled off the back of the truck into traffic.

Glancing in his mirror, Fox watched as Wolf's car avoided the spilled pipes. At the same time, the second green car rounded the corner behind Wolf and fell in line behind him. All the while, Pond kept his foot glued to the accelerator pedal. The speedometer needle rotated right at a rapid pace, passing 100, 110, 120, 130, 140…

The long, non-divided avenue featured four lanes heading in both directions, allowing Pond to dart through the minimal traffic without slowing down. Fox hazarded a glance in his side mirror and was rewarded with the ever-present visual of the two green Tipo F's trailing him and Pond by an unnervingly close margin. All three cars featured nearly identical acceleration and top speed figures, meaning that no matter how much open road existed, outrunning Wolf and his cronies without interference would be impossible.

The Vulcain's speedometer passed 170 with no signs of the acceleration tapering off. The car traveling at such a terrifying clip had an unforeseen perk, however: Wolf found himself unable to lean out his window to shoot at Fox and Pond. To Fox's right, a wide shipping canal attached to the Eladard Bay raced by, its waves a blur. After a mile of open road, however, another traffic light appeared, indicating a return to the urbanity, replete with worn-down office buildings and warehouses. Wasting no time, Pond turned the Vulcain hard to the left and hit the brakes at the last possible moment to keep himself from being rear-ended by Wolf. Tires howling in protest, he skidded through the intersection sideways, but kept his foot on the accelerator enough to steady the drift. He straightened out the car on the adjacent road, which sloped sharply upwards.

At this point, Fox had come to expect just about anything from the driver of Wolf's car, but seeing the green menace behind him filled him with stunned dread. The second green car rounded the corner behind the other two, its distance behind Wolf allowing it more time to make the turn with no drama.

Fox gritted his teeth and looked at his assault rifle. He glanced at Pond. "Sorry—you're going to wish you had earplugs."

Not waiting for Pond to offer a response, Fox rotated to his left and aimed his rifle through the Vulcain's back window. The already-cracked glass made lining up his sights difficult, but with the green car under a hundred feet behind him, he felt that he could make the shot. _"Sorry, Wolf—it's nothing personal. Actually, no, it_ is _personal now. You shouldn't have gotten involved with this."_

He took aim at the driver of Wolf's car and moved his finger to the trigger. The driver noticed and pulled wildly to the left into the oncoming lane just as Fox pulled the trigger. The shot obliterated the Vulcain's back window, spiderwebbing it completely and reducing rear visibility to zero. Unable to see anything behind him, he yelled, "Slippy! Is he still back there?"

Pond looked into his left side mirror in time to see Wolf's car stop in the oncoming lane, his right front tire blown out. "He'sh out of commisshion."

Fox did an internal fist pump. However, the next time he glanced in his mirror, he noticed the second green car gaining on him and Pond. To his horror, when he looked more closely in his mirror, he noticed twin machineguns mounted to the hood of the second car.

" _Shit. This is going to be trouble. I need to let the others know what's going on."_

* * *

\- § -

* * *

"Aren't you concerned that Fox hasn't called you again?" asked Lucas, leaning against Foxfire's van's second row of seats with his arms folded in front of him.

Rena glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Shut up, I'm trying to focus! This remote control isn't as easy as it looks, dumbass!"

On her computer monitor, Zippy's front camera displayed Desmond's fleeing truck in the foreground as it motored through Eladard's industrial district. The camera wobbled violently, changing angles every time Rena inputted a new flight command. Watching the video feed, Lucas realized that Rena did not exaggerate when she claimed to be struggling with the controls.

Seconds later, a phone icon with a small picture of Fox appeared in the top right corner of Rena's screen. Gritting her teeth, she pressed the command key to accept the call. "This had better be farking important, Senpai."

" _It is!"_ Fox snapped, _"We're being chased by one of Wolf's goons and can't do anything until we shake him off! Rena, I need you to take the van and go after that truck."_

"Are you stupid?" the yellow vixen exclaimed, "I can barely keep Zippy flying in a straight line as it is, and in case you forgot, I can't drive!"¹

Fox became eerily silent. Only the sounds of the Vulcain's roaring engine and the intermittent noise of machinegun fire filtered through Rena's speaker setup.

Lucas spoke up, raising his voice enough to be heard by Fox. "Fox, I'll take care of this. You can trust me."

Fox breathed a deep, anxious sigh. _"Don't screw this up. Please. I've tried calling the others, and no one's responding."_

"I'll do what I can," Lucas replied. Without any further response, Fox hung up.

Lucas eyed the driver's seat and noticed the keys in the ignition. He crawled over the van's center console and dropped into the left side seat. He turned the key and started the engine. However, his attention moved towards the Red Group office complex's main entry door. Two blue-furred foxes stumbled into the parking lot, looking disheveled and panicked. One of the two looked barely clothed. Lucas thought about reversing out of the van's parking spot, but he stayed put when he saw the two blue foxes sprinting towards him and recalled Rena mentioning that Krystal had joined Fox's operation.

Within seconds, the two vixens reached the van. The taller of the two—Scarlet—yanked open the right side door, and both she and Krystal crashed onto the second row of seats. Krystal wore the same flirtatious dress clothes that she had entered the building with, but all that covered Scarlet was a chrome bra and thong.

Lucas glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with Krystal, who let out a quiet shriek and briefly considered bolting from the van. "What are you doing here?!"

"I'm driving this van," the jackal replied in a flat voice. "I was just about to leave." He shifted the van into reverse and pulled out of his parking spot before accelerating onto the road that ran in front of the Red Group complex.

Briefly taking her attention away from Zippy's hair-trigger controls, Rena posed a question. "Not that I care, but what happened to Katt and Miyu?"

Scarlet sat up on the second row bench seat and waved her arms back in forth in front of her. "They're still in the party room, or whatever's left of it."

Rena glanced to her left momentarily, unable to completely take her eyes off her computer screen. "What do you mean by that?"

"All right, you asked for it," said Scarlet, shaking her head. "It's a dumpster fire in there. The food was tainted. Everyone who ate it got _incredibly_ sick. People had it coming out both ends, and for whatever reason, the men's bathroom was locked.² Everyone made a beeline for the ladies' room, which went as well as you'd imagine. Miyu and Katt ate the food too, so you can do the math on that one."

Lucas cringed, although no one noticed it. In the back of the van, Rena betrayed no noticeable change in expression. Instead, she simply commented, "Well, that's shitty."

The van's interior became quiet until Rena began providing route hints to Lucas from the back of the van, using Zippy's location as a technological north star for him to follow. Desmond's truck had a five minute head start, requiring Lucas to drive as quickly as possible whilst avoiding drawing undue attention to the van. He figured that point would not be a major issue for him, however, since Fox and Pond's chaotic pursuit would no doubt draw any heat away from him if it came to that. The light traffic in the warehouse district did little to slow him down, and the traffic lights along the major avenue favored his route. Meanwhile, Rena kept Desmond's truck in her drone camera's crosshairs.

However, when she momentarily shifted the camera upwards, she saw the Eladard Bay looming large. They were running out of time to catch the truck before it traversed the undersea tunnel leading to the city center, and more importantly, the Eladard International Airport where Desmond no doubt intended to load the truck into a plane and slip out of the city-state.

A moment later, however, Lucas spotted the truck up ahead. He accelerated, rapidly closing the gap between the two vehicles. As the two came within a mile of the undersea tunnel, traffic increased as the slow-moving chase entered the more populated portion of Eladard's industrial district. After running a close yellow light, Lucas pulled in behind the truck just in time for the next traffic light to turn red.

Everyone in the van waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

Unseen by all behind him, Lucas pondered his strategy. _"If that truck stops at the light, I could throw the driver out and take the wheel. But it would be too obvious. Everyone would see it. It would make it nearly impossible to make a clean getaway. The driver knows he's being followed, too. There's no way he hasn't noticed Rena's drone yet. He's probably going to run that red light, and then what? I can't run him off the road. Again, it would be too obvious, and that truck is huge. There's nothing I can do that wouldn't draw massive amounts of attention to me. Unless…"_

Gripping the wheel, he floored the throttle and swerved to the right, cutting off a sedan that had previously been beside him. Instead of slowing for the red light ahead, he increased his speed and pulled alongside the massive truck. As he predicted, the truck did not stop for the light, even though cross traffic had began moving. In spite of every instinct telling him to stop, Lucas accelerated even more. Numerous cars coming from the adjacent street to the right blasted their horns at him as they screeched to a halt, but he paid them no mind.

"What are you doing?!" Krystal screamed.

Lucas gave no response. Instead, he hit the brakes and turned left—in front of the cargo truck. The truck's driver furiously honked his horn.

" _He can only do one of two things,"_ Lucas observed, _"He's either going to hit me, or he's going to turn left into that narrow side street. It would be nothing for him to plow over me with that truck, but I bet he doesn't want to. He needs to keep moving, and anything that would stop him or draw the police out would be bad for him."_

The truck turned left into the alleyway. Lucas grinned. He slowed the van and turned into the side street after his target. Meanwhile, Rena hovered Zippy over the Foxfire van, then quickly dropped altitude and activated a magnet which latched the drone to the roof.

The two vehicles thundered down the narrow, dingy alleyway that was occupied by only a tiny number of cars, mostly ones parked on the sides of the street.

A quarter mile down the road, the truck's driver slammed on the brakes and turned towards another narrow alley to the right, only to come to a complete stop. A garbage truck blocked the adjacent road while waiting to back into a loading bay. With the waste disposal unit unable or unwilling to move, the truck driver lacked the room to slip past. Looking in his rearview mirror, he accelerated once again and looked for another road to turn into.

To his dismay—and Lucas's delight, it seemed that every adjacent road was either a dead end or under construction. Lucas could palpably _feel_ the driver's panic increase the farther he drove. As if to match his fearful thoughts, the alleyway seemed to become darker, more turgid, and even more lifeless the farther he went. Then, with all options exhausted, the road ended in a cement wall covered in graffiti. Not a single soul stirred nearby. Even the noise from the Eladardian traffic on the main roads seemed muted.

At the end of the alleyway, the driver stopped the truck, turned off the engine, and leaped out. The ursine barreled across the pavement towards a large, abandoned building on the left side of the street before he disappeared inside. Notably, Krystal drew a sharp breath upon seeing the driver.

Lucas put the van in park, took a deep breath, and looked at the building. Above the weathered, moss-covered entrance, a sign read 'Sakamura Steel Company.' It resembled a factory of some sort, and Lucas considered that it seemed like an ideal place to hide from the authorities or one's enemies. Either that, or an ideal place for a gang hideout.

Seconds later, Rena clambered over the second row of seats and leaned forward into Lucas's personal space. "Well, aren't we supposed to do something?"

Lucas turned to face the yellow vixen. "I'm thinking."

From behind the two, Krystal raised her voice, "The man driving that truck was Desmond Moon. He's Rafa's right hand man—the mastermind behind East Fortuna's experimental weapons and R&D department. We can't let him escape."

Scarlet looked less than convinced. "Really? Look, the tank we're trying to keep East Fortuna from getting is literally right in front of us. It's ours for the taking." She pointed at the truck parked in front of them.

"You don't understand," said Krystal, "Taking him out would be a massive blow to Rafa. How about we deal with him, and then we come back for the truck?"

Lucas and Scarlet locked eyes. The latter spoke. "No way. There's way too much of a risk of that truck somehow getting stolen while we go after Moonbear³ or whatever you call him. I'll bet you anything that he went in there to try to get us to come after him. He's probably either setting an ambush in that building, or he's calling for backup to get the truck back. We need to get that truck and get out of here fast. I guarantee that thing has a GPS tracker in the back, and the longer we wait, the more likely it is that more goons are going to start showing up." When no one spoke up, she huffed, "Well, I'm going for it. Who's with me?"

Rena raised her hand.

"Good!" said Scarlet, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the van's side door. As she stepped out of the vehicle and set foot on the warm asphalt, the rest of the crew climbed out of the van after her. She looked over her shoulder at Rena. "I'm going to hop in that truck and hotwire the starter."

The yellow vixen nodded and pulled a small set of needlenose pliers out of her short shorts pocket. She handed them to Scarlet and commented, "You're going to need these."

Scarlet accepted the tool and walked towards the truck, but quickly took stock of her own situation, specifically as it related to her attire. Due to her needing to escape from the Red Group's office complex as rapidly as possible, her semi-presentable clothes were still back in the party room. She stopped in her tracks and paused for thought. While she stood in place, Krystal climbed out of the van and asked, "What are you doing?"

Scarlet glanced at her and raised her smartphone to chest level. "Calling in a supply drop. I can't go gallivanting around town with a piece of chrome dental floss wedged in my ass. Also, this supply drop will reset my fur color."⁴

"That's a good idea—the supply drop, I mean," Krystal replied, trying not to giggle at the red vixen's clothing misfortune. She unlocked her phone and navigated to a special app indicated by a stylized "G" referencing Felix's Gaia Corporation. "Good thing I put my Kursed loadout into the app before we left for the party."

With a series of quick taps, she confirmed the drop location. Scarlet completed her own drop request seconds later.

The two vixens looked up into the night sky. A moment later, a pair of small twinkles appeared among the stars. As the seconds passed, two small boxes equipped with parachutes descended from the heavens, aimed directly at the pavement in front of Krystal and Scarlet. Thanks to her having confirmed her delivery first, Krystal's supply drop landed at her feet. She wasted no time in pushing aside the parachute and opening the crate, which revealed her black and purple Kursed jumpsuit with matching black mask, along with a bullpup .308 rifle. While she gathered up the contents of her supply drop and ran behind the van to change out of her stripper clothes, Scarlet looked up at her falling crate.

However, as it descended, a heavy industrial crane based in a nearby construction site rotated its enormous boom in her direction. Scarlet watched in horror as the parachute clipped the edge of the crane and tore it off the box, which careened wildly to the right before coming to rest on the rooftop of the building to her right with a loud crash.

Scarlet looked forlornly at the supply crate, balanced precariously on the edge of the building's flat roof—but not precariously enough for it to drop. She looked at herself and clenched her fists in rage. Looking at the sky, she screamed, "Why do you do this to me?!"

The thought occurred to her to try the airdrop again. So, she opened the Gaia app and navigated to the supply drop screen, only to see her loadout grayed out with a timer indicating that it could not be selected again for another half hour. She bared her teeth and stomped towards the massive cargo truck. Fortunately, she managed to avoid stepping on any nails with her bare pads and taking the situation from bad to worse.

Meanwhile, Krystal pulled her mask on, zipped up her bodysuit, and walked towards Lucas, who stood near the front of the van, eyeing the entrance to the abandoned mill. He raised an eyebrow at Kursed's appearance before asking, "Are you ready for this?"

In the heat of the moment, Kursed forgot to apply her "tough badass" persona and nervously replied, "Um, I was hoping that you were going to help take the truck."

The jackal crossed his arms. "Sorry, wish denied. I could care less about the truck. If that man is who you say he is, he is of prime importance to my mission. Tragically, it looks as though you're stuck with me."

Kursed shuddered. Lucas noticed. He always notices.⁵

"Why are you so afraid of me? I wish you no harm. The only reason you would ever have to fear me is if you were hiding something from me—some deep, dark secret of your past that would destroy your life as you know it if others learned about it. It is fortunate that you don't have any secrets like that, hmm?"⁶

The subtly condemning tone of voice he used to finish his phrase and the stoic yet subliminally disturbed way he looked at her sent icicles of terror up her spine. _"Oh no—he knows. But how? I've been shielding my thoughts all this time! How can this be?"_

To distract herself from her own terror, Kursed pointed to the abandoned mill and suggested, "Let's go."

Lucas took a step towards the building. He kept his arms crossed. "I hope you realize this will not be as easy as you assume it will."

"I don't care. He needs to be dealt with," replied Kursed, checking her assault rifle. "Say, where are your weapons?"

"I have no need for them."

A different kind of terror gripped Kursed. _"Bloody hell—this really is going to be a disaster. But what if he's right? What if he really doesn't need a weapon? Is he an...Opuckot? Could it be true? The High Priestess of Cerinia is supposed to be the only one of them in existence."_

Fear and dread in her heart from both the black and blue jackal beside her and the anticipation of the uncertainly of what lay inside the building, Kursed walked towards the abandoned mill with a quiver in her step. In contrast, Lucas showed no signs of fear, or of any emotion, for that matter. With that in mind, however, his control over his own emotions far surpassed that of most individuals, so his external visage was not the most accurate representation of how he truly felt.

The duo crept towards the abandoned steel mill's entrance as if it was the lair of an ancient dragon. Looking behind her for a moment, Kursed glanced at the cargo truck just as Scarlet started it. She refocused her attention on the entrance of the building while Scarlet began turning around.

Kursed and Lucas stepped through the mill's silent front entrance, being careful to make as little noise as possible. The majority of this effort fell upon her, since Lucas did not wear shoes and moved with an uncanny lack of noise. The two expected the mill to be as dark as the grave, but to their surprise, a faint, dark red light bathed the area with a rusty glow that illuminated the long-dormant rollers, smelting mechanisms, and machinery that lay scattered about the abandoned structure.

The light told them something else, though.

Desmond had fled the truck for the purpose of luring them into the mill, just as they suspected.

As she walked through the abandoned steel mill, Kursed felt a growing feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach. The grim red ambience served as the building's only lighting; and the mere fact that it was on suggested that Desmond had powered it up.

Finger resting on her assault rifle's trigger, she crept across the floor. To her left stood a long row of smelting pots mounted on a long track. The machines lay silent, not having been used in years. To her right was the structure's exterior wall, and above her, a series of steel catwalks that crisscrossed the entirety of the factory floor. Scores of barrels, crates, and dilapidated pieces of equipment lay scattered across the concrete. The way she saw it, they almost looked to have been laid out as cover for a firefight.

She glanced from side to side in the massive atrium, looking for any signs of movement. Lucas nearly disappeared in the darkness. She barely saw him. She looked over his shoulder at the entrance, now seemingly far behind her. The farther she walked, the more she wished she had not been so impulsive about going after Desmond. But there was no turning back now. Up ahead, she saw an array of heavy duty supply pipes leading from the floor to the ceiling. The second level catwalks ran in front of the wall of pipes, and in the center of it, Kursed saw something.

"Cover!" Lucas shouted.

Kursed leaped into action, diving for the nearest available cover. In her case, this meant crouching behind a rusty forklift.

No sooner had Lucas spoken than a stream of .50 caliber bullets ripped the concrete floor into chunks directly underneath where the two had been standing. The bullets stopped a second later.

Then, a deep, bassy voice echoed through the warehouse. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You chose to go after me instead of taking the truck when I left it unattended with the keys in the ignition? Really? I must say, I'm flattered that I'm that important to you."

Kursed poked her head up, but only far enough to allow himself to look at Desmond, who stood in the center of a section of the catwalk that ran perpendicular to the long, rectangular shape of the atrium. The massive ursine wore a suit of heavy power armor and carried a minigun, which seemed strange, considering that it would have been impossible to hide on his person earlier. On his back was a peculiar looking protrusion that looked suspiciously like a jetpack.

"Listen, you prick," the vixen shouted, trying to use her Kursed voice in spite of her fear. "You should have kept running."

"Oh, is that so?" Desmond chuckled, although it sounded more like a rumble. Grabbing his minigun with one arm, he curled it with the ease of a bodybuilder moving a twenty pound dumbbell. "In case you were too stupid to realize it, I would never abandon my precious cargo without a contingency plan. You see, no matter what happens to me, you lose." He pointed to Kursed, a wicked smirk on his lips.

"What do you mean by that?" Kursed demanded.

Desmond chuckled. "Rafa and I have our best men on the job of tracking that truck. Looking at my HUD that I built into my state-of-the-art power armor, your foolish friends chose to drive off with the tracker still active instead of trying to disable it. Obviously, they did not want to have the end of the GPS trail lead back to this building. Very cute, but sadly, also catastrophically misguided. Wolf and his team will be all over that truck in minutes, and in the unlikely event that they fail, well…" He chortled. "Your friends will find out what happens when you take on a man of my intellect."

"Typical of you, Desmond. I should have expected nothing less."

"I do my best," said the bear, shrugging. "But it sounds as if you know me. How is that? Your voice…it sounds familiar. It's reminiscent of…"

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. "I should have known it was you. I'm here to tell you, no matter how hard you try to interfere with our plans, you will not be able to stop us. Your usefulness ended long before you abandoned us. You've made your last mistake in coming here. Get ready to die, traitor."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Kursed retorted. While Desmond had been monologuing, the vixen had flipped her rifle's selector switch to full auto. Before Desmond had to the opportunity to lift his minigun, she took aim at him and opened fire. Multiple bullets tore into his chest, but the onslaught barely even caused him to flinch.

"You'll have to try harder than that," Desmond chuckled. "Now it's my turn."

Kursed grimaced under her mask as the hulking ursine raised his minigun to hip level and gripped the two triggers. The barrel spooled up rapidly, sending a dizzying hail of bullets in her direction. Mass numbers of rounds shredded through the derelict forklift that functioned as her only cover, and she knew that if she did not move immediately, the fight would be over as soon as it had begun. She looked around in panic for something more substantial to take cover behind. One of the heavy concrete pillars holding up the catwalk above her stood twenty feet away along with a trio of metal crates, but even twenty feet was too great a distance to traverse while being exposed to Desmond's minigun fire.

" _This was a terrible idea. I'm dead."_

Regardless of the danger, she forced herself to act and pushed herself off the forklift's frame. She fully expected to be ripped to pieces in the blink of an eye, but to her shock, the hail of bullets stopped. She hazarded a glance out of the corner of her eye and noticed Desmond take his eyes off her for a moment. The momentary lapse in fire allowed her to slide behind one of the crates which stood behind the concrete support column. Still, she knew that if Desmond emptied enough bullets into her new cover, it would disintegrate in short order.

Peeking out from behind the pillar, she fired at Desmond again while the bear scanned the opposite side of the room for something he could not see. More bullets struck Desmond, this time in his right shoulder _._ The ursine snarled in rage and refocused his attention on her. More bullets raced her way, peppering the support column in front of her and the floor near her feet.

"There's nowhere in this room where you're safe!" Desmond shouted. "You should have thought harder before you chose to hide near a load-bearing support."

Kursed immediately realized what he meant. _"Oh no."_

She looked up in terror as Desmond emptied another volley of minigun fire into the concrete support pillar. Within seconds, the concrete evaporated into dust. The large metal catwalk above her head creaked and groaned, then plummeted towards the floor. Kursed screamed and went prone behind the nearest crate just in time for the mass of metal to collapse around and on top of her. Breathing heavily, she rolled over and checked herself for any injuries. To her immediate senses, she felt no pain that did not exist before. The metal crates around her absorbed most of the damage from the falling catwalk, but on the negative side, it effectively entombed her in a vault of twisted metal and concrete. She spotted a gap in the wreckage that looked large enough to slip out of, but no sooner had she seen it than Desmond opened fire on her location again—this time, with no cover and nowhere for her to run.

Kursed screamed and covered her head as the bullets tore into the wreckage—as if that would do anything. However, the barrage came to an abrupt end. Opening her eyes, she peered through the shredded metal in front of her, and through the ruins of the catwalk, she saw Lucas jump onto Desmond's back and lock his arms around his neck. The much larger bear stumbled on the raised catwalk, trying to elbow the smaller jackal and force him off. Furious grunts spewed from his lips, his breathing becoming more taxed and uneven with every second that Lucas kept him in a headlock.

"GAAAH!" Desmond roared. "Get…off…me!"

Kursed used the opportunity to extricate herself from the wreckage of the catwalk. Skirting the supply crates on the floor, she raised her rifle and took aim at Desmond. However, she held her fire, not wanting to hit Lucas. The two continued sparring, with Desmond unable to dislodge the limber jackal who held onto his neck with a veritable death grip. The longer Kursed watched, the more she saw Desmond weaken.

" _I don't believe it! He's actually going to take him down! Come on—you can do it!"_

With a pained, furious snarl, Desmond reached with his right hand and smashed a button embedded in armor suit's left arm. The jetpack on his back ignited at full thrust, rocketing him upwards with Lucas still clutching at his neck. Eyes wide, Kursed watched as Desmond launched upwards, gaining speed at an alarming rate.

" _Is that a glass ceiling?"_

Her answer came in a fraction of a moment. Desmond smashed through the portion of the abandoned mill's glass skylight roof directly above him, carrying Lucas off with him. Shards of glass rained down on the factory floor. Then, all became silent. Hearing nothing but the ringing in her ears caused by gunfire, Kursed sprinted towards the center of the floor and looked up. Apart from the newly created hole in the roof, she saw nothing except the microscopic distant flame of Desmond's booster pack. Then, his trajectory changed, and she lost sight of him.

She sighed. _"What am I supposed to do now? Lucas had the keys to the van."_

The thought occurred to her to pull out her phone and select Fox from her contacts list. Not knowing what kind of situation the vulpine was in, she hoped for the best and pressed call. Several seconds passed, but the only sounds that reached her ear were the phone line's repeated dialing noise followed by Fox's voicemail prompt. Hanging her head, she ended the call and shuffled outside, where the abandoned Foxfire van sat motionless in the alleyway. Unsure of what to do next, she sat with her back against the side of the van, lowered her head, and pulled her legs to her chest.

* * *

\- § -

* * *

His jetpack at maximum thrust, Desmond ascended into the night sky, gaining fifty feet in altitude ever second. In less than a quarter of a minute, he found himself level with the pinnacle of Eladard's tallest building. Or rather, he would have been cognizant of this detail if not for the persistent pest clutching his neck for dear life. Even as he reached 2,000 feet, his breathing became haggard, and his vision began fading out.

" _Let go, you maniac!"_

Lucas's hands remained as tight around his throat as ever, until suddenly, Desmond felt his enemy's grip weaken—likely from his own dizzying ascent. Seizing the opportunity, Desmond wildly reached for his own neck, seizing a hold of the jackal's right hand. His strength and consciousness fading fast, Desmond pulled as hard as he could. Lucas's chokehold failed, and he lost his grip. Flailing wildly, the jackal managed to latch onto the top point of Desmond's jetpack as its owner reached 2,700 feet. The way Lucas gripped it pulled Desmond to the left and rotated the jetpack's thrust in the same direction, which moved him to a position above the waters of the Eladard Bay. Snarling, Desmond shoved his left arm backwards with the point of his elbow protruding. The strike caught Lucas square in the ribs. With a canine squeak, he relinquished his grip and plummeted towards the distant ground.

Desmond halted his ascent and hovered in midair. While catching his breath, he watched his defeated enemy speed towards his inevitable demise. Seconds later, Lucas crashed into the Eladard Bay at terminal velocity, creating an enormous splash and a series of waves that splashed over the dock edges nearby.

" _Good riddance,"_ thought Desmond. His vanquished enemy no longer a threat, he scrolled through his power armor's HUD system until he reached a window related to the Landmaster truck's GPS position. He smiled, noticing that the signal was transmitting from a stationary position less than two miles away. _"You thought you were rid of me, but you're in for a very unpleasant surprise. You'd be smart to run while you still have a chance—but intelligence doesn't seem like your strong suit."_

Unfettered by the two blue-furred pests who tried and failed to hold him back, he set a waypoint for the Landmaster truck's location and boosted through the night air towards it.

* * *

 _FOOTNOTES:_

1 No, you did not miss this detail before. This is the first time Rena mentions that she has never learned to drive a roadgoing vehicle.

2 In case you forgot, that reason is because Fox locked it to buy him and Pond more time to snoop around the Red Group facility before someone found the hole in the wall in the last bathroom stall.

3 Desmond is a rather obvious reference to Desmond the Moonbear from the asdfmovie video series.

4 Willing suspension of disbelief? What's that? Also, remember that Scarlet is still dyed blue.

5 Lucario knows what you did.

6 This footnote is an unfortunate case of telling instead of showing, but it should be mentioned that Lucas cannot read Krystal's mind beyond a surface level and does not, in fact, "know." He's making an informed guess as to why Krystal/Kursed fears him so much and is using her response to gauge how likely it is that he's correct. Remember, he interrogated her in Arc II, and he suspects that he did not get the whole story from her.


End file.
